
t 


\ 



♦ 


% 

* 



i 



9 





/ 




f 



\ 

A 


« 


\ 


i 





■ t 


/ 


V 

* 


_ ) 



»a;l 

i-h'^S 


f 


% 




t .. 

- • 


f 


.^?i 


r 




\k 


/ 


\) ' 


« 


1 

i 

( 

■ ? 

• * ' ' » 

. ' • i 



1 



/ 

» \ 


\ 

■ 


I 


S I 






-.••a; -f 





A * •- if* t“ 



vV i ■' ;%'j<y.- ■-*,,v’ ', 

t?' A 

y ih'V.l 



♦ .. > . 't • V . ’ ^ 






■M 


'ff; 

« 

■• I 


».' V » o - , 

‘ V . ? .--^ ■ 





t 


” J 7\ ?• . 1 . 0ao'«V' plnsHi7*# <!?»■■»»'' » '' I 

'■ - ■ ‘ ■ r 

: >iv-^r'^-;.-. ■' W' '-' ' V-' 


T‘ 


'Tji n •.*“ “ • • 







I ' ‘'5 - . A ' ' y . . r . ' . ■ ' 

A ... ’ ‘I , • ' -K '. y . •'i ' .' 



V a;;'-: 




-/ •; ; 


',--V>. 


•V 









’ » • 


.■'ll 








'.a'." 


.*! N . 

• V 1 ■ 


■' Y -' . A ".."-. '■■* 


ir" 




■'■fKi 


; 

■/.t, 


/ . 


, ,/ 


■: * r'" '■ ^ 






<7 


• t ': ^ 




fc -4 • 

./' 1 ' . 





. ‘t t •> *V ' ' 

' f V • I * \ , v^»-* 
V4.^ ♦. \.%f 


?- 


6 i - •'■ -'*.> . v " • K . « . .*. 

• • • ' T ' . 4 ^‘ 


' w .'. 

■•' v .\ / 

/ lO J 


V , 


.» 


<• ^ 


; y.‘ff 


'' * V 



- . ^.> - ■ ■ 


: >:• V . r ; ' v 

■ « j *' '•j * ^-1 " I / * . • • 

.: %_ :'■ > *^ , . i' J . ‘ * \ , • . 


*. • 
V 


■y 


*■■ ’■... 


•r 


Av 


.i ..,-■ 

v • ' 


Y-V 


. • * v ' 


A . 


. 4 


» . 







. j' *.,/ 


f 


. 






/■ ' 


. f. ^ . '<«• " r ./a' *‘'*f 

Ja >fJi •* .»••'.. * 


\ .■ 

» s 


VA'' 






»A » 


-•'f 


'•V *' : ■ / •■ 


?■ Y :*' ■■. ■• ‘f i'' 'Y’’"'" - 

EMMia- ' -V ; ' 1m«- ‘- ■ ^ .■• . r ' "'.■-•/&>; . 


Y '’:. 



r. 


V 1 ' 
’• w 


I 


•■J 


y 






..1 ' ^ 




.. »A».. * 

^ y. • >•' . .- ,• 

V r' : • - 




' s 


'f-.* 


<: - ' 

. i !'.••: 







'Sk 


4 

•« 


,v < 


’A * 

• . 


'** ^ { .'4 

I 




'..;• Y., vV.r:^.^: 

.\. ^' r’ , ■ ^,.- 

. • ' y ' 


- 1 j ':' ' 


• I ' :•^ 


V 







..f •."■ 


iji'4 


■ ' ’ , » 
I ' 

• ' V 

s « 




-■ ?. r , y / * • 

•■ V * V ' 

’'M? 







» 


,-. '<,..*/ yt ^,V' f A*»**^^^ 
•f- -‘i.. '.j .^v.V^Vjs 






>, 


' . . ' . - * ■' ' fs ■’ ' . V - • •■» • • ; i -' 

V.s ■ ^..‘ ^■■' ■ ■*' ^ ' -'■'^'i :-.,A’" ’■ V ■ ■ ♦a-, 71 ■. ( ■ .■ 

l■■-v■;'\ ■ *: w .v-j' - '*'"f ■* *'■■■■' : ■ -‘Y V ■ ^.■'V v'-^'V' ■■ ' 


S : . ■ r ■' « -A ;.. 


A. " 
9 





4 <v ' 

•v I 


<, 



/ • I . ^ 


V.V •■• './•2^aiOT 

■ -.yO ■ ' •'•. • . --I. . 1 ’.' <1 r\.*.'i^ V 


■y J 


• y** . 
\\ 


,4 

• i , 

0 


. V 
•» » ' 











WORKS OF 

Catitain CIt airier BSCins^ 

Under Fire. Illustrated. Cloth, 125, 

The Colonel's Daughter. Illustrated. Cloth, 1^1.25. 
Marian's Faith. Illustrated. Cloth, ^1.25. 

Captain Blake. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.25. 

Foes in Ambush. Cloth, $1.25. 

Kitty’s Conquest. Cloth, Ji.oo. 

Starlight Ranch, and Other Stories. Cloth, ^i.oo. 
Laramie; or. The Queen of Bedlam. Cloth, ^i.oo. 
The Deserter, and From The Ranks. Cloth, $1.00. 
Two Soldiers, and Dunraven Ranch. Cloth, $1.00. 

A Soldier's Secret, and An Army Portia. Clothe 
$1.00. 

Waring's Peril. Cloth, $1.00. 

Captain Close, and Sergeant Crcesus. Cloth, ]^i.oo. 
Paper, 50 cents. 

Editor of 

The Colonel's Christmas Dinner, and Other 
Stories. Cloth, ^^1.25. 

An Initial Experience, and Other Stories. Cloth, 
$1.00. 

For sale by all Booksellers. 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Publishers, 
Philadelphia. 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET 

A STORY OF 

THE SIOUX WAR OF 1890. 

AND 

AN ARMY PORTIA. 

TIVO NOyELS. 


CAPT. CHARLES KING, U. S. A., 

AUTHOR OF “ THE COLONEL’S DAUGHTER,” “ THE DESERTER,” “ DUNRAVEN RANCH, 

ETC. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 

OFTH£ 

eUP.'XOUNClL, 


r 


'PZ’J 

■ Y. St 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 

Copyright, 1892, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 

AN ARMY PORTIA. 

Copyright, 1890, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 


Exchange 

itIsJf’ary of Supreme Council A.A.SI?- 
Aug 10,1940 



Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia. 



TO 

ELIZABETH BACOH CUSTEE, 

WHOSE DEVOTION AS WIFE, WHOSE DESOLATION AS WIDOW, 

AND 

WHOSE BRAVERY AND PATIENCE THROUGH LONG 

YEARS “IN THE SHADOW” HAVE " 

TOUCHED ALL HEARTS, 

THIS STORY 
IS 



A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 





ew 


» bS * 

Ilw^ ^ y 

r n'N » . 


P: Pn ''^''■''-f"'-.'*9Ki^.4 

o'. "S^T-^i'^fWW?:";"' 

• , i -•■ V. - ■^', T'.V-' - '■? 

V, 5—1 - • \ • 




■'> 




#* ♦ 




a * 






f#* 


■CiJ 

% i 

> • 




i. '■ ■'•:>. r.' >> ',' aJ?-.'^ • '• '■* •' ■ '-- " '"?•• .' ‘£^ ■ 

.rv '. . ' V .■' i^^- 'f -''t* V ,,-: >■■ •.'^ 

-' '% ■ ' ' ■• '■'■ ~ V- - '•' • '' '‘ '■ 






A SOLDIER’S SECRET 


I. 

W HEN the Indian summer haze is hovering over the bluffs along 
the Pawnee in these dreamy, sunshiny afternoons of late No- 
vember there is a languorous spell even in soldier life, and the troopers 
love to loll about the wide porches of the barracks during their brief 
leisure moments, or while waiting the trumpet call for stables. There 
is scarcely a breath of air astir. The broad, fertile valley under the 
bluffs, forest-fringed along the stream, gives forth a faint, pungent, 
smoky odor, and the eye wanders across its soft undulations, its vistas 
of alternate glade, grove, and shadowy pool, and sees it all as through 
some filmy, intangible veil. The sharp outlines so characteristic of the 
frontier at other seasons, giving to the ridge to the northwest that 
razor-back guise that inspired the original explorers, Kentuckians and 
Missourians, to refer to the range as “ Hawg Buttes,’^ are mellowed into 
softer curves. There is an echo sprite abroad in the autumn skies, for 
the distant whistle of the trains, the puff* and pant of engines miles away, 
the rumble of the express as it flies across the wooden truss at Big 
Bend far down the valley, the lowing of cattle and the tinkle of their 
bells at the farms beyond the reservation lines, the shout and laughter 
of village children scouring the stream banks for the last of the yeaPs 
crop of beech- or butternut, the soft laughter of the ladies gathered in 
the veranda of the major’s quarters, all come floating through the pulse- 
less air to the listening ears of the sentry dawdling here along the post 
at the western gate, and distracting his attention from the purely 
military functions which he is called upon to perform. Over at the 
guard-house many of the men are drowsing in the afternoon sunshine. 
Among the stables the horses are standing at the picket-line, with 
drooped heads and lazily-switching tails. The officer of the guard, 
knowing the colonel to be away on a late shooting-excursion and the 

7 


8 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


major held at home by the demands of hospitality, has dropped into a 
doze while sitting bolt upright at his wooden desk. Scores of the 
garrison proper seem inclined to follow his example, and the tall, dark- 
faced, black-bearded soldier — a handsome fellow — leaning on the 
breast-high wall over at the east end midway between the hospital at 
the edge of the bluff and the junior surgeon’s quarters, his chin on his 
arms, his cap pulled well down over his eyes, seems to have been 
stricken by the general somnolence. It is only the ladies who are wide 
awake and alert, for this is Nita Guthrie’s last appearance, so to speak. 
She has been paying a brief visit to Dr. and Mrs. Holden, kinsfolk 
of hers, but is to take the East-bound train this very night. Mrs. 
Holden goes too, leaving her lord, the junior medical officer of the 
station, to the mercy of the other women ; and of all the families of 
some thirty married officers stationed in this big garrison not one is 
unrepresented at Major Berrien’s to-day, for Nita Guthrie has won all 
hearts. But this, say those who have known her long, is an old, old 
story with Nita ; she has been doing the same thing for years. 

There is tang of suggestiveness about this statement ; moreover, it 
is true : Miss Guthrie is not in the first bloom of youth. Why, she 
must be nearly thirty,” say some of the younger girls and younger 
matrons, who envy her none the less the freshness, the grace, the win- 
someness, that hover about her mobile face ; but those who are in 
position to know and have no reason to feel the faintest jealousy assert 
very positively that Nita is not more than twenty-five. 

‘‘Well, why hasn’t she married?” is the instant query of Mrs. 
Vance, to whose benighted mind it ever appears that because a woman 
hasn’t she cannot. 

“ Simply because the right man is yet to come,” is Mrs. Harper’s 
equally prompt reply. “ Nita Guthrie has had more offers in six years 
than any woman I ever heard of.” 

“Then there must be something back of it all,” responds Mrs. 
Vance, whose theories are not to be lightly shaken. “ Was there some 
early affair ?” 

“ My dear Mrs. Vance, I have no doubt I could tell you a dozen 
stories, all plausible, all in active circulation when last I visited St. 
Louis and saw her in society there, and all as near the truth, probably, 
as any we could invent here. Nobody knows but Nita, and she won’t 
tell.” 

Now as the autumn sun, all red burnished gold, is sinking to the 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


9 


horizon on this final day of a charming and memorable visit, Nita 
Guthrie is bidding adieu with laughing, kindly cordiality to the little 
coterie gathered in her honor. To one and all she has the same frank, 
gracious manner. Over all she throws the same odd magnetic spell, 
seeming to impress each and every one in turn with the same idea : 

Now, you are just the most thoroughly delightful creature I have 
ever met, and I cannot bear to say good-by to you.’’ There is the 
lingering hand-clasp, and yet not the faintest sentimentality. Nita’s 
blue eyes — very blue — gaze straight into those of her friends. She 
seems to advance a step or two, as though eager to meet and take by 
the hand each new-comer. Even the elders among the women find it 
hard to go ; and as for the girls, they linger spell-bound ; they cluster 
about her, watching the sunshine in her face, the play of her features, 
the sparkle of her eyes, drinking in her winsome words, her rippling 
laughter. 

It’s just the only chance we’ve had to ourselves. Miss Nita,” pro- 
tests Winifred Berrien. “ You’ve been surrounded by men all the rest 
of the time, and we couldn’t see you now if it weren’t that they had to 
be in stables. Oh, if you only didn't have to go to-night !” 

“ Indeed, Winnie, I don’t want to go. It seems to me nothing can 
be more delightful than life in an army post like this. Certainly no 
girl ever had a better time anywhere than you have given me here, and 
it is so unlike what I fancied it might be.” 

It is entirely unlike what life on the frontier used to be. Miss 
Guthrie,” answers her hostess, the major’s wife, in her calm, placid 
way. Any one contrasting our beatitude of to-day with our life here, 
there, and everywhere over the West during the Indian campaigns 
in which the regiment was incessantly engaged, can only wonder how 
we found it possible to exist in those days. Social conditions have 
changed, too, and in the gathering of our troops in larger garrisons 
a great many of the unpleasant features of the old life have been 
eliminated entirely. Indeed, I wish you might stay and see more of 
us. But you are coming again, are you not ?” 

If wishing will bring it about, I shall be with you again with the 
coming summer or early in the spring. I have promised Mrs. Holden 
that I will return to her, if only for a fortnight.” 

The enthusiasm excited among the girls, and apparently shared by 
all the women present, when this announcement is made, ought certainly 
to convince Miss Guthrie that they most reluctantly part with her now 


10 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


and most pleasantly anticipate her future coming. The clamor of 
voices is such that for a time no one is conscious of the fact that out 
on the parade the regimental line has formed, and that the band is 
already trooping down the front. Berrien had taken his position as 
commanding officer. Several subalterns, whose heads were kept rigidly 
straight to the front, found their eyes wandering furtively over towards 
the major’s quarters. In couples and groups, a number of the ladies 
come sauntering forth, gathering opposite the centre nearer the colonel’s 
house, from which point they generally watched the closing ceremony of 
the day. But, still oblivious to any music but that of her voice, a dozen 
of their number hover about Miss Guthrie. Even gun-fire fails to 
distract their attention. It is not until the major himself returns, 
tossing off his helmet and tugging at his waist-belt, that they realize 
that parade is over and dinner waiting. 

‘‘Now, you will come back next spring?” — “You will write?” — 
“ You wonH forget to send me the photograph, — mind, cabinet size, — 
Miss Nita?” — “Indeed, if ever I get anywhere near St. Louis you’ll 
be the first soul I shall come in search of.” 

It is a little flock of enthusiastic army girls surrounding her, 
maidens whose early lives had been spent wandering from river to 
mountain, from the Gulf to the Columbia, to whom city life was 
almost a revelation, and city belles, beings from another world. Wini- 
fred Berrien is the leader of the coterie, a girl whose eyes are as dark 
as Nita’s are blue, and they are ready to brim over at this very instant. 

“ Here comes Captain Bolfe for you now, and we’ve got to let you 
go ; but we’ll all be down to see you off at train- time.” 

The man w'ho enters at the moment and stands just within the 
heavy Navajo portiere, smilingly looking upon the group and quite 
unconscious of the almost vengeful glances in the eyes of the young 
girls, is a cavalry officer about thirty-five years of age. He is a tall 
fellow, somewhat heavily built, yet well-proportioned and athletic. 
His face is tanned by long exposure to the sun and wind of the wide 
frontier. His brown hair, close-cropped, has a suspicion of gray just 
silvering the temples. His eyebrows are thick and strongly marked. 
The eyes beneath are deep-set and fringed with heavy lashes. The 
moustache, sweeping from his upper lip, is of a lighter brown than his 
hair, but equally thick, heavy, and curling. Otherwise his face is 
smoothly shaved, and is one which impresses those who look upon it, 
even carelessly, as strong and resolute. He still wears the double- 


A SOLDIER^S SECRET. 


11 


breasted coat, with shoulder-knots and just as he had come 
off parade, though he has exchanged helmet for forage-cap, which 
latter head-gear at this moment is being dandled in one hand, while 
the fingers of the other beat a rapid tattoo upon the visor. Comrades 
of Kolfe would tell you that this is a sign that he is nervous ; yet to 
look at him there, smiling upon the group, quite as though remarking 
what a pretty picture they make, no one else would be apt to think of 
such a thing. 

“ Ready in a moment, Rolfe,” shouts the major from an inner room. 

You ready, Berengaria 

I am always ready, Richard, as you well know,” is Mrs. Berrien’s 
placid response. “ I think I never kept you waiting so much as a 
moment.” 

“ Promptest woman in the army or out of it,” booms the major 
from his sanctum, his jovial voice resounding through the rooms of the 
bright garrison home. Never knew anything like it, Miss Guthrie. 
Why, do you know, even when I wasn’t half proposing she never let 
me finish the sentence ! ’Twasn’t at all what I was going to ask her, — 
that day, at least. Meant to eventually, of course, if I ever could 
muster up courage, but this time I had only found grit enough to ask 
for her picture, and I was engaged in less than ten seconds.” 

Winnie Berrien rushes from the parlor into the paternal den, vol- 
uble with protestation against such scandalous stories at mamma’s 
expense ; but Mrs. Berrien, slowly fanning herself, remains calmly 
seated, as though impervious to these damaging shots, at which every- 
body else is laughing merrily. 

Possibly you don’t believe me,” again booms the major, his jolly 
red face aglow, as he is dragged forth from the den, still struggling 
with the sleeve-links of his cuff‘. Winifred, my child, unhand me. 
Fbifc’ll never bring your old father’s gray hairs in sorrow to the grave 
by such unwomanly precipitancy, unless it’s a civilian with ten thou- 
sand a year : will you, dearest ? — Miss Guthrie, I never expect to be a 
rich man. I hadn’t as many dollars when I fell in love with Miss 
De Lancy as I had buttons, and we only wore single-breasted coats 
in those days, and I was the junior captain. I pledge you my word I 
never would have had the cheek to offer myself. ’Twas the woman 
did it. I was going away for a week, and I said, ‘ You can give me 
one thing, if you will.’ I only meant to beg for that picture, and, by 
Jove ! she slipped her hand into mine. I was shaking all over. ‘ I — 


12 


A SOLDIER^S SECRET, 


b-beg pardon/ I stammered, was only going to — beg for your 

p-p-p ’ <My promise?’ said Berengaria, sweetly, looking up into 

my eyes. ‘ You have it, Kichard.’ Prompt ? Why, she just jumped 
at me. Splendid arrangement, though. Miss Guthrie. She furnished 
the quarters and all the money, and I the vivacity and beauty of the 
household, until Winnie came : she contributes a little towards it now. 
But we’re a model couple, aren’t we, Berengaria?” And the major 
bends with playful tenderness, the fun sparkling in his eyes meanwhile, 
and kisses his handsome helpmeet’s rosy cheek. 

‘‘We have few crosses, certainly,” replies Mrs. Berrien, whose own 
name is anything but Berengaria, that being, as she is frequently 
called upon to explain, some of the major’s historical nonsense. “ We 
have few crosses, and those, of course, I bear. But now,” she con- 
tinues, with much decision of manner, “if you are partially restored 
to sanity we will go, or keep dinner longer waiting. — Miss Guthrie, 
do they allow lunatics at large in the streets of St. Louis ? Major 
Berrien spoke of getting a month’s leave this winter and eoinff 
thither.” 

“ Oh, send him by all means, and he shall be treated at our own 
asylum. Father would rejoice in him, — as I do, Mrs. Berrien.” 

“ And shall I get the colonel to detail Bolfe here to conduct me 
thither and turn me over to the asylum authorities?” queries the 
major, with a knowing cock of the head. “ Eolfe hates city life as a 
general thing, but he would accept that duty, I fancy.” 

“ Captain Eolfe will be very welcome. Indeed, I only wish you 
might bring the whole regiment, major. Just think what a good time 
the girls could have this winter if that were only possible.” 

“ Berengaria says,” bursts in the major again, “ that if I only show 
you proper attention on this visit you’ll be sure to send us invitations 
to bring the whole family and spend six weeks at least.” 

“Father! you outrageous fibber !” gasps Winifred, rushing at him 
and placing one slim hand upon his mouth, while twining the other, 
with its soft white arm, about his neck.— “Indeed, Miss Guthrie, you 
must be told that father is perpetually poking fun at mother, making 
her say all manner of things she never thought of. It is all well 
enough in the regiment, where people understand it and are prepared 
for his nonsense, but many strangers are completely deceived at times 
and mamma never so much as remonstrates.” ^ 

Evidently mamma does not consider it worth while. 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


13 


‘^It would be wasted time, Miss Guthrie, and we are wasting time 
as it is. — Captain Hazlett will never forgive you, Major Berrien, if you 
keep dinner waiting anotlier minute. — Captain Rolfe, will you escort 
Miss Guthrie? — Come, Richard, march !’^ 

“ After you, Rolfe,’^ says the major, with a bow of extra ceremony. 

After you.” 

Before them, if you please, you blind goose !” whispers his better 
half. ‘‘ Haven’t you sense enougli to see he wants to speak with her 
and that this may be the only opportunity ?” 

“ What! Rolfe wants to talk with her? Why, Miss Guthrie,” he 

booms aloud, I hadn’t the faintest idea ” But here the wife of 

his bosom lays firm hand upon his sunburnt ear and fairly marches 
him forth upon the veranda. Miss Guthrie would indeed have been 
glad to lead, but Rolfe’s hand, trembling slightly, as she cannot but 
note, is laid upon her wrist, restraining her. 

Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to talk with Rolfe, Miss 
Guthrie ?” queries the major, over his shoulder, with every appearance 
of concern. I could have fixed it all for you.” 

Silence, Dick !” sternly murmurs IMrs. Berrien. ** There is no 
fun in this atfair, and I warn you — not another word.” 

Twilight has fallen upon the garrison as they stroll across the 
parade. The men have vanished from the scene, but the tinkle of 
guitar and banjo tells where they have gathered. Most of the otficers 
are at dinner. One or two couples are just entering the gateway of 
Hazlett’s quarters, — guests invited to meet the fair visitor on this the 
last evening of her stay. Dr. and Mrs. Holden can be seen among 
them, Mrs. Holden gazing somewhat anxiously at Nita and her escort, 
for it is plain that Rolfe seeks to detain the woman to whom he has 
paid such unusual and devoted attention ever since the hour of her 
arrival. Silence and peace have spread their wings abroad, hovering 
with the twilight over the broad reservation, and the Berriens, walking 
rapidly now' as the energetic lady can lead her expostulating spouse, 
come suddenly upon the sight of the great golden moon rising above 
the distant blutfs and peering in upon the garrison through the wide 
space that interposes between the surgeon’s quarters and the barracks 
at the east end. 

Now, there is something Miss Guthrie really must see !” says 
Berrien, halting short. As one of her admirers and entertainers, I 
feel bound to call her attention to it.” 


14 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


Dick ! — stupid ! — move on at once. You must not speak to her 
now. Can’t you see ?” 

See ? Of course I see ; and I want her to see : that’s why I 
stop.” Again half teasingly he attempts to turn, as though bent on 
looking back. She promptly whirls him about and faces him in the 
proper direction. ^‘Oh,” he persists, if it is something about her 
you wanted me to see, can’t you understand that I have no eyes in the 
back of my head, and that therefore I should be allowed to look 
about ?” 

You see, sir, and understand the situation perfectly well as it is. 
You’re simply bent on mischief. You know that Rolfe has been her 
shadow all day long, hanging about her to say his say. He knows this 
to be his last chance. Everybody will be there the moment dinner is 
over. Everybody will surround her, and unless he speaks now he must 
let her go without a word.” 

Berengaria, you amaze me! Are you conniving at his capture? 
Didn’t you tell me you knew she wouldn’t have him?” 

I did ; I know it now ; but he is a man who wants to hear his fate 
from her own lips and plead his cause, too, like a man, unless I am very 
much mistaken in him. No, sir, don’t you dare look back.” 

^‘Poor devil ! Why couldn’t he wait till after dinner? she might 
be in softer mood then. I always am. That’s why you always wait 
till after dinner, I presume, when you have anything special to ask. 
Now, this will take his appetite away entirely.” 

As if he had any in the first place ! Positively, Richard, you have 
no soul above a dinner. When a man is as desperately in love as Rolfe, 
do you suppose he cares much what he eats ?” 

“ Well, seems to me I was never off my feed,” is Berrien’s reply, 
with preternatural gravity, looking straight to the front now and re- 
fusing to meet his wife’s dark eyes. 

You !” with fine scorn. “You! Why, Richard Berrien, with all 
your amiable qualities of heart and weaknesses of head, no one on earth 
would ever associate you and sentiment in tlie same breath. Of course 
you and your appetite are inseparable ; but Rolfe is different : he is a 
lover.” 

“ Well, what am I ?” 

“ You are simply a goose to-night. Come, don’t stop at the gate 
now ; push right on into the house after the Holdens. I’ll run up to 
Mrs. Hazlett’s room with Nita.” 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


15 


A dozen of the fort people, only, have been bidden to dinner, for 
hardly a dining-room at the post is big enough for more, and on the 
porch, anxiously awaiting the coming of his guests, is Hazlett. 

“ Where are Rolfe and Miss Guthrie?’^ asks he, as men will ask. 
“ All here now but them.’’ 

Coming at once; only a few steps behind us,” promptly answers 
Mrs. Berrien. Run in, major : I’ll wait for Nita.” Berrien looks as 
tliough he meditated a mischievous remark, but something in her voice 
and manner tells him that instant obedience is expected. He gives one 
quick glance and steps into the hall. 

Presently, while chatting with others of the arriving party, he is 
conscious of the swish of skirts passing up the stairway. The door to 
the veranda is still open, and, glancing out, Berrien can see Rolfe alone, 
leaning against one of the wooden pillars, his head drooping as though 
plunged in deep thought. 

“ Poor old chap! he’s got his conge to-night, and that’s the end of 
his two years’ romance. Odd about that girl. She fancies nobody.” 

Three hours later, the moon being well up in the heavens now, and 
the whole parade shining revealed almost as bright as day, both the 
verandas and the parlor of Hazlett’s cosey home are thronged wiiii 
officers and ladies, chatting merrily together. The lights are still 
blazing in the barracks. The trumpeters in full force are grouped 
about the flag-staff, sounding the last notes of tattoo. The Holdeiis 
have borne Miss Guthrie away with them that the ladies might stow 
their evening gowns in the waiting Saratogas and then don their travel- 
ling garb while the quartermaster’s big wagon trundles the luggage 
down to the railway-station. Presently this lumbering vehicle can be 
seen slowly rolling away from the Holdens’ gate, and everybody at 
Hazlett’s waits impatiently for the return of the party. Mrs. Holden 
is deservedly a favorite in the garrison, and Nita Guthrie, as has been 
said, has won golden opinions. The evening air is growing chill, how- 
ever, and of the dozen ladies present only the younger, the girls, remain 
longer upon the veranda. About this pretty group, laughing and chat- 
ting, are four or five of the younger officers, Brewster, the swell of 
the subs,” keeping close to Winifred Berrien, and claiming more and 
more of the glances of her big dark eyes. Down at the gate, the moon- 
light glinting on his polished sabre, the officer of the day is exchanging 
a few low-toned words with Major Berrien. Rolfe, who, with silent 
and dogged resolution, had taken his place at Miss Guthrie’s side as she 


16 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


came clown the stairs and escorted her to the doctor^s, has turned from 
there and gone slowly across the parade to his own quarters on the other 
side. Everybody seems to see and know what has happened, and many 
half-whispered comments are being made, not all in sympathy with the 
willowed lover. Everybody respects Rolfe, yet among the younger 
officers are several who feel no warmth of friendship for him, and, as 
between man and man, garrison girls can only side with the youngsters. 
Their story of their slight differences is sometimes told again and again ; 
the elders’ seldom, for theirs would hardly be believed. 

Little by little the chat and laughter subside. 

‘‘Oh, why doesn’t she come back?” pouts Miss Berrien. “The 
ambulances will be here in less than half an hour, and we won’t see 
anything of her.” A chorus of girlish voices echoes Winifred’s views. 
Mrs. Berrien and Mrs. Parker at this moment come forth from the 
house and look expectantly up the road. 

“ How long they are !” says Winnie again. “ What can keep them, 
mamma?” 

“ Packing, I doubt not, my child.” 

“ But the wagon’s gone, trunks and all. It can’t be that.” 

“Still, I would not fret about it, Winnie. Has she not promised 
to come next spring and pay us a long visit?” 

“ Yes, but who knows where we may all be next spring, or what 
may happen meantime? Every paper we get is full of stories of the 
ghost-dances among the Sioux ; and if there should be another Indian 
war ” 

“ Nonsense, Winifred ! Don’t think of such a thing! After all 
this regiment has had to suffer in Indian battle, you don’t suppose we, 
of all others, would be sent from here to a winter campaign in the 
Northern Department? We’ve seen the last of such troubles, God be 
thanked !” 

Major Berrien, his interview with the officer of the day ended, has 
just started to rejoin the group on the veranda, when he hears his wife’s 
pious words. He whirls around sharply. 

“ Oh, captain, there’s one thing 1 forgot to tell you.” And the 
sabre of the officer of the day clanks against his leg as Captain Porter 
faces about. The younger officers go on with their blithe chat; but 
Mrs. Berrien has known her lord twenty long years, and no sooner has 
the officer of the day departed than she hastens to join him. 

“ Dick,” she falters, “ surely you do not believe that there is any 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET, 


17 


chance of the Twelfth going, even if there should be trouble? Dick, 
tell me.’^ 

Berengaria, beloved inquisitor,’^ he begins, “ I didn’t even know 
there was a row anywhere.” 

But she rebukes him by a single glance. 

Tell me, Dick,” she persists, and clings to his arm. You don’t 
think, after all we’ve been through, that, now that we are so happily 
settled here, there is a possibility of such a thing? It isn’t only for 
myself now. It’s — it would mean more to Winifred than either of 
us dreams of.” 

He looks at her in silence and amaze. Then — then comes sudden 
distraction. On the stillness of the night there rises a scream of terror, 
— a woman’s voice uplifted in the expression of an awful shock and 
agony. Then a dash towards Holden’s quarters, every man joining. 

“ My God !” shouts Berrien, it’s Nita Guthrie.” 

Following the rush of soldiers’ feet, half a dozen ladies, too, have 
hastened, Winifred Berrien foremost of the lot. At the head of the 
stairs on the landing of the second floor, dressed for her journey, lies 
the fair guest of the regiment, a senseless heap, with the blood flowing 
from underneath her pallid face. 


II. 

Indian summer was over and done with. The soft haze had gone. 
For three days the wind had been blowing hard from the northwest, 
and the air was as clear as an Arizona sky, the distant outlines sharp 
as the tooth of the prairie blast. Colonel Farquhar had suddenly 
broken off his shooting-trip, and, without saying why, returned to the 
post. Captain Rolfe had ‘‘cut” the club, once a favorite resort, and 
was much in Dr. Holden’s company, — Holden, who was lonely enough, 
now that his wife and little ones were gone. Throughout the garrison 
there was one leading topic for conversation and conjecture, — Miss 
Guthrie’s strange adventure the night of her intended departure, and 
her equally strange conduct thereafter. She had remained senseless 
but a few moments. Gentle hands had raised and borne her to the bed 
in the room she was evidently just about entering when suddenly halted 
by some mysterious cause. Here, when restored to consciousness, an 
almost hysterical attack of laughing and weeping had followed upou 

2 


18 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


her prostration. She insisted on attempting to rise and go to the train 
as originally planned, but this Holden positively forbade. He had 
succeeded in stanching the flow of the blood from a jagged cut near 
the temple, and could suggest ready theory as to the cause thereof, — 
in falling she had probably struck the edge of the little wooden post 
at the top of the balusters, — but beyond this explanation there was 
absolutely nothing. Nita Guthrie would only account for her sudden 
terror by the half-nervous, half-laughing statement that she thought she 
saw a ghost, had played the coward, and turned to run. 

But to the trained })hysician it was evident she had received a 
severe shock. Despite her pleadings. Dr. Holden had refused to allow 
her to attempt the journey until three days had elapsed, during which 
time, thougli she laughed at him and laughed at herself, her condition con- 
tinued so nervous and excitable that he would not permit visitors to see 
her. This was pretty hard treatment, thought her many lady friends at 
the post, but he was wise and they could only obey. When the evening 
came for the departure, a large contingent, ladies and officers both, 
assembled to say farewell, and Kita, Mrs. Holden, each of the children, 
and even the nurse, could have had two or three escorts to the train. 
But no one had opportunity to say much to the central figure of all this 
sympathetic interest. Only at the last moment did she appear, and 
was ushered almost instantly to the waiting carriage by Holden, who 
had only summoned her when vigilant eyes had reported the head-light 
of the express visible far up the valley. But then down at the dark 
platform of the station faithful, sad-faced Bolfe was waiting, and in the 
minute or two that intervened before the huge train came glaring, hiss- 
ing, and thundering alongside he managed to have a word or two with 
her. Mrs. Vance, had she been present, might have vowed that Nita 
shrank and clung to Holden’s arm, but others who were there saw her 
extend her gloved hand cordially, saw that Rolfe clung to it an instant, 
— charitable others who could only wave adieu, for the party was hur- 
ried aboard, and away went the express, the tail-lights of the rear 
sleeper disappearing in the dripping gloom around the bend, for, as 
though in sympathy with the mourning of the post, a drizzling rain 
had begun to fall just after retreat. Rolfe, gazing after them to the 
last, wore that look seen on the face of many another man many 
another time. There can be few sensations more dismal than that of 
watching the disappearing lights of the train that bears away one’s 
best beloved, esi)ecially in the eyes of him who stands rejected. 


A SOLDIFAi S SECRET. 


19 


Let me drive you home, Kolfe,” said Holden, kindly. “ Two of 
a kind,^^ was his mental addition. And Rolfe turned slowly away, 
neither man saying another word until once more they stood at the gate 
of the now deserted home. 

Come in and have a pipe.’^ 

Thanks, not — now, doctor.’’ A long, wistful pause, then — 
Well, good-night.” 

Good-night, old man. Come when you will ; I’ll be lonely now.” 
And the doctor stood and gazed after him long and earnestly as the 
captain strode into the darkness out over the parade. 

Within the days that followed, when he had leisure to think it all 
over, Holden felt his perplexities increase. Up to the very last Nita 
had persisted in her statement that nothing had happened to warrant 
the absurd exhibition she had made of herself. was overwrought, 
nervous, unstrung,” she said. I had not been feeling quite well. I 
had run up to the room for my gloves, which I had left upon the table. 
I had not reached the door, and it was just the waving of those white 
curtains in the draught from the side window. I must have thought I 
saw a ghost, and, like a fool, I screamed and tripped, and — voildi toutj^ 
But Holden had known her for six years, and felt well assured she 
was not of the stuff that is easily stricken with terror. With every 
confidence in her veracity in general, he did not in the least believe her 
now. The more he studied the matter the more he felt that she was 
hiding something from them one and all, even from Jennie, whom she 
dearly loved and whom ordinarily she frankly trusted. It was evident 
that Jennie, too, believed, as did her husband, the doctor, that there 
was something behind it all. But Jennie was gone, and, except pos- 
sibly Rolfe, there was no one to aid him in his search after the truth. 
Rolfe’s heart was now so shrouded in its own gloom that any phase of 
tragedy seemed credible. Rolfe evidently wanted to know Holden’s 
suspicions or surmises, and again and again led up to the subject; but 
of all men in the garrison, much as he esteemed him, Rolfe seemed 
hardly the man to make a confidant of now. Was he not Nita’s 
avowed though rejected lover? 

Of course no time had been lost in making investigation on the 
night of the occurrence. Even while the doctor and others were 
raising the unconscious girl from the floor, half a dozen officers were 
scouring the premises for signs of intruder, and had found absolutely 
nothing. The room occupied by Miss Guthrie in the doctor’s house 


20 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


was immediately to the left at the head of the stairs. The hall was 
broad, the landing roomy. It was one of the oldest sets of quarters at 
the post, and an oddity in its way. Entering the door of the rear 
room on the east, three windows a})peared, two opening at the back 
and one at the side. The two at the back looked out over the roof of 
the rear porch. It was perfectly practicable for any one with a ladder 
to have clambered to this roof, and, had the blinds been open, peered 
in the windows at the occupant. But there was no ladder. What 
was more, the blinds were tight shut and boiled on the inside. The 
shades within were drawn down, and the lace curtains looped over each. 
Between them stood a long old-fashioned mirror above the toilet-table^ 
draped with lace curtains very much as were the windows themselves. 
No one from without could have been visible to any one within. No 
one within could have been seen by any one without. Moreover, the 
Holdens’ cook — an indomitable Irishwoman — was on the back porch 
at the moment of Miss Guthrie’s fright, saying good-night to Corporal 
Murphy, who had long been Kathleen’s devoted admirer, and both 
stood ready to swear that nobody was on that roof. The rear windows 
thus disposed of, the doctor had turned his attention to the window at 
the side, and here there was possibility of explanation. 

As has been said, the Holdens’ house was one of the oldest at the 
old frontier fort, but so solidly and substantially had it been built that, 
Avhen others were condemned and ordered replaced along the row, the 
authorities had decided to retain “ Bayard Hall.” It was originally a 
double set, with hall-way in common, intended for the use of four 
bachelor officers, each to have his two rooms, there being four rooms 
on the first and four on the second floor, while the kitchen and 
servants’ rooms w^ere placed in a wooden addition at the rear. The 
ground fell away rapidly from the front piazza, so that while the first- 
floor front was but a few steps higher tlian the walk, the rear porch 
was a full story above the ground, giving abundant space for store- 
rooms, etc., under that part of the house, and necessitating a flight of a 
dozen steps to reach the porch or the kitchen door-w^ay. Around the 
front and sides of the second story there ran originally a broad gallery, 
but this was before the days of the w^ar of the rebellion, during which 
the post was little used, and when, after certain repairs and alterations, 
the house was declared assignable as family quarters, the old w^ooden 
gallery had been condemned and torn down. Nevertheless, the beams 
which were its support on the east were found solid and firm. They 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


21 


projected through the wall of rough-hewn stone, and an old-time quar- 
termaster, selecting the house for his own use, had thrown a light gallery 
out upon them. It made such a convenient place for flower-pots, 
shrubs, bath-tubs, and things of that description, said he. Further- 
more, it was a place where he could go in the warm evenings and smoke 
and sip his toddy with his chosen associates, and not have every garri- 
son gabbler crowding in to disturb their chat and absorb his precious 
Monongahela. The gallery had no roof, was only five feet wide, and 
was inaccessible except through this one window, which the unsociable 
major had had cut down level with the floor. “Robbers’ Roost” the 
disdainful subalterns used to call it in the days when bluff* old Blitz 
had occupied the quarters and barred out all but his chums, and by the 
same name was it known when Holden moved in with his wife and 
olive-branches and took up his abode tliere a few years before the open- 
ing of this story. When the Eleventh marched out and the Twelfth 
came in. Colonel Farquhar, finding the doctor in possession, decided 
that the Holdens should not be disturbed, — that there was abundant 
room for others in the new quarters. The Holdens entertained a great 
deal. Pleasant people were visiting them month after month, and 
everybody in the Twelfth blessed them for the brightness and gayety 
their presence lent to the garrison. A sterling fellow was Holden, one 
of the best men in one of the very best corp'^, personally and profes- 
sionally, in our little army; and as for his wife, an accomplished society 
woman, a St. Louis belle, still in the heyday of youthful womanhood, 
everybody in the garrison delighted in her friendship and kindliness. 
There was no more popular parlor than Holdens’, and night after night 
the young officers gathered tliere. But “ Robbers’ Roost” had fallen 
into disuse. The glass door was generally shut, and the Venetian blinds 
with which old Blitz had decorated it were ordinarily closed except 
when this, one of their two guest-chambers, was occupied. Shades and 
lace curtains similar to those at the rear windows drajied it within, so 
that from the interior this side door presented almost the same appear- 
ance as the windows themselves, and it stood directly opposite the hall 
door. But Miss Guthrie had become enthusiastic over the lovely view 
down the Pawnee Valley from that side gallery. She \vas frequently 
to be seen there. She had gone out for one farewell look as the valley 
lay flooded in the light of the full moon, and this was immediately 
after changing her dress. She was exclaiming over its beauty as, 
arrayed for her journey, she came dancing down the stairs to join her 


22 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


hostess and the excited cliildren in the parlor. She suddenly missed 
her gloves, remembered that she had left them in her room, had scurried 
up the stairs, had reached the landing at the top, but never entered her 
room at all, when there was heard that awful shriek of terror and a 
heavy fall. Holden at the instant was in his own room, the rear room 
on the opposite side of the house, and was changing his best uniform 
into something more suitable for a run down to the railway. This had 
delayed him a second or two, so that Brewster and Randolph, two of 
the most active of the junior officers, were foremost at his heels as he 
flew up the stairs. His first care was for Nita, but the youngsters had 
bounded into the room and out on the gallery, as though expecting to 
overtake some intruder there. The side door was wide open, the shade 
up, the lace curtains drawn apart. If any one had been in the room, 
escape to the gallery was easy enough, but from there there was practi- 
cally none except by a leap of fifteen or twenty feet to the hard ground 
below. No one had run out, either front or back, for Murphy and the 
Irish cook were at the rear on the east side, the rushing swarm of 
officers at the front. If any one had hidden there, escape unobserved 
was well-nigh impossible. No one was found, — no trace of any one. 
Indeed, when Nita was permitted to talk she vowed that no one had 
been there. She herself had left the blinds, door, and curtains open as 
she came in from the moon-lit gallery, had turned out her lamp and 
descended the stairs. The gallery door-way could not be seen from 
where she fell, and, as all was darkness in the room itself, how could 
she have seen any one ? 

Out on the gallery, of course, any one would have been revealed, 
thanks to the brilliancy of the full moon, almost as in the broad glare 
of day ; but one had to be at the hall door or in the square room itself 
in order to see the gallery at all, and Nita declared, as before, that she 
had not reached the door. What she fancied was a ghost, bathed in a 
pale, cold light, was probably the white curtains of the rear windows. 
But the light, — whence came that? 

The possibility of any one having been in the room was not enter- 
tained. Prompt and thorough search had been made in every nook 
and corner of the upper story. The rooms of the nurse and children 
were on the westward side of the hall, and the nurse was in one of 
them, putting on her hat, at the very moment. The front room on 
the east was unoccupied. Nita had chosen the other because of that 
gallery and its lovely view. Then there was the rear slope of the main 


A SOLDIEWS SECRET. 


23 


roof above the gallery. That, thought Holden, might have offered a 
way of escape, because it was out of sight from the parade. But 
Brewster and Randolph had both essayed to reach the eaves, and, even 
when standing on the railing, could barely touch them with the tips of 
their fingers. Then, again, a sentry walked along the edge of the slope 
leading to the river-bottom south of the long row of officers’ quarters 
and close behind the rear fence, but he was at the eventful moment well 
down the row beyond Hazlett’s house, whereas Dr. Holden’s was at the 
eastern end of the line. The moon shone full against the back fence, 
said the sentry, and he was sure he would have seen anybody who ran 
out of the gate of the doctor’s yard, and the first who appeared were 
the searching officers. Corporal Murphy with them. Several men had 
then come running from the direction of the laundresses’ quarters to 
the west, and after them Sergeant Ellis. Indeed, it was Ellis who first 
suggested a search of the roof by means of a ladder. He was sergeant 
in charge of the fire-apparatus kept in that long, low building at the 
east end, and had the keys of the door. It was by his aid that some 
of the junior officers made a thorough examination of the roof and the 
front porch. No more signs there than had hitherto been found. No, 
the sentry on the south post was confident that no man came out of 
Holden’s yard until he got to the gate, whither he had run the instant 
he heard the cry. He thought it might be a lamp-explosion or a fire, 
and he was watching with eager eyes. He had been on post nearly 
two hours when the alarm came, and, except Corporal Murphy and the 
quartermaster’s men who took the trunks, he had not seen or heard a 
man about the premises. Kathleen, the nurse-maid, and the children 
had been home all the evening, and they had neither seen nor heard 
anybody. 

Captain Rolfe, unable to sleep, and making the rounds on his own 
account about one o’clock, found the sentry of the third relief gazing 
curiously in at the open back gate, and questioned him as to what 
excited his attention. 

Nothing, sir,” was the prompt reply of the trooper, as he threw his 
carbine to the position of ‘‘arms port.” “ I was simply wondering 
how any man could have ventured in there this bright night and 
expected to get out unseen, especially early in the evening, when men 
are passing to and fro all the time.” 

“ What made you think any one had been there?” asked the cap- 
tain, quietly. 


24 


A SOLDIER S SECRET. 


Everybody has heard by this time that there was a search made, 
and that the young lady had seen somethiug to frighten her. Besides, 
Sergeant Ellis spoke of it to me an hour ago.^’ 

“ What was the sergeant doing on your post at midnight 
Why, sir, the captain remembers Sergeant Ellis is in charge of 
the fire-house and sleeps there. He came out a little before twelve and 
said he\l lost his pet pipe while he was hunting around with Lieutenant 
Brewster after he brought the ladder, and I let him ]»ass in, sir. He 
said he’d been working there long after taps, and it would be all right. 
He found the pipe, sir, right at the edge of the wood-pile yonder. He 
showed it to me as he came out.” 

Captain Bolfe was silent a moment. Ordinarily none of the 
enlisted men had any right to be away from quarters after the lights 
out” signal, but this case was unusual. Furthermore, Ellis was a man 
superior in intelligence, a sergeant of more than a year’s standing, and 
one who had been selected for this especial duty for the very reason 
that, holding himself much aloof from the average run of the rank 
and file, he would be apt to attend strictly to his duties as custodian of 
the fire-house, and no one had ever heard of his abusing his trust. His 
own little room was a model of neatness when the commanding officer 
made his monthly inspection of the garrison, and the hose-carriage, the 
hook-and-ladder truck, the fire-buckets, and other apparatus were 
always in perfect order and readiness for service. No one ever inspected 
Ellis’s quarters at any other time. The guard often noticed his light 
after midnight, and he had the reputation of being a good dial of a reader 
and student, taking books from the post library very often, besides 
owning quite a number of his own. Observant officers who had 
glanced about when making the inspection with Colonel Farquhar 
noted that many of these were texts on mining, mining engineering, 
mineralogy, and geology, and some had gone so far as to question the 
sergeant as to whether he had ever practically essayed mining. With 
perfectly respectful manner Ellis replied to these occasional queries, 
merely saying, Yes, sir, but without success.” Asked where he had 
made his essay, his reply was rather vague : In several Western States 
and Territories, sir, — mainly Arizona and Colorado.” Only once had 
he displayed anything like annoyance or impatience under such fire. 
He had served his three years’ enlistment, was entitled to his discharge, 
yet quietly notified his troop commander that he proposed to re-enlist. 
In a somewhat sharp manner that official had whirled about. 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


25 


Sergeant Ellis/^ said he, if I had had your experience in 
mining it seems to me Td find something different from staying in the 
regular army.’^ 

Captain Gorham,” was the unexpected reply, if you had had 
anything like my experience you would be very glad of a berth in the 
army or out of it, — preferably in.” 

It was conceded after this episode that Ellis had a history and the 
faculty of keeping it to himself. The colonel was glad to have him 
re-enlist, even while wondering that he should do so. Many remem- 
bered how he had come to them haggard and travel-worn three years 
before and offered himself as a recruit. This was far out in the moun- 
tains. His language and manners were such that every one knew it to 
be a case of a man whom fortune had betrayed, and who ‘‘took the 
shilling,” as many another has done, somewhat as a last resort. But 
before he had won his first chevrons the men knew well that from some 
source or other Ellis was beginning to receive a good deal of money. 
When Sergeant Currie was killed by that tough in the public streets 
of Sheridan City, — a cold-blooded and uprovoked murder, — and Cur- 
riers wife and children had not where to lay their heads now that their 
support was gone, officers and men “ chipped in’^ and bought them a 
little cottage on the banks of Rapid Run, just at the edge of town. 
Ellis had planked down a five-dollar bill as his share on the subscrip- 
tion-list, but did not Kate Currie, the eldest child, tell how he had 
come all by himself afterwards and given her an envelope which he bade 
her hand to mother from a friend, — an envelope which was found to 
hold a fifty-dollar Treasury note ? Sporting characters in the regiment 
who sought to borrow from Ellis met with cold, even curt, refusal. 
Neither would he ever gamble or bet with them. Neither did he seem 
to care to go to town at all when first the regiment moved into this its 
most delightful station after years of service on the distant frontier, — 
not until the order was issued permitting meritorious soldiers to wear 
civilian dress when on pass. Then he was almost the first to appear 
on the streets of the bustling county seat, in a neat, unobtrusive, but 
remarkably well cut and well fitting suit, and, far better dressed than 
most of the townspeople, Sergeant Ellis became an occasional visitor ; 
but no one ever heard of his patronizing any other establishments than 
the bank, the post- and express-offices, and the book-stores. Captain 
Hazlett, calling at the post-office one day, was surprised to find Ellis 
at a lock-box, the key of which he calmly placed in his waistcoat- 


26 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


pocket and then as calmly raised his hat in salutation to his superior 
officer. Both were in civilian dress, both on temporary leave of a few 
hours only, both, from the point of view of the correspondent of a 
very enterprising paper, occupied at the moment the same social plane, 
and his allusions to the slavish deference demanded by the aristo- 
cratic commissioned force of their enlisted but far worthier men’’ gave 
rise to some discussion at the fort. One or two officers held that Ellis 
should have given the military salute and no other, but the mass of 
opinion was in favor of Ellis’s action : being entirely in civilian dress 
himself, the civilian custom should prevail. 

Well, damn it,” said Mr. Kandolph, that consists out here in 
shoving one’s hands deeper into pockets, tilting the cigar higher in the 
mouth, and giving just half a nod.” It was finally conceded, however, 
that in courteously raising his hat Sergeant Ellis had done about the 
right thing, and that in as punctiliously raising his own in recognition 
the captain had fittingly and scrupulously acknowledged the courtesy, 
the sneers and lashings of The Spasm City Chimes to the contrary not- 
withstanding. 

Still, no one supposed that Ellis was going to re-enlist when his 
time expired. They had already begun casting about for somebody 
else to place in charge of the fire-house. But Ellis signed the papers 
with ready hand, asked for and got a month’s furlough with permis- 
sion to leave the department, and was back in two weeks ready to 
resume duty, his dark face a trifle paler, his heavy beard becomingly 
trimmed, just three days after Nita Guthrie’s arrival, just three days 
before she was to have gone home. 

Rolfe turned from the sentry and gazed away eastward. How 
many a long mile down that beautiful valley were the lights of the 
rushing train by this time, and what meant this light so close at hand, 
shining faintly but clearly through the slowly plashing rain ? After 
one, and the sergeant still up and reading? No, it burned too dimly 
for a student-lamp; neither was it in the sergeant’s room. Following 
his thoughts, Rolfe, wrapped in his mackintosh, moved slowly out 
to the eastern edge of the bold bluff, passing the fire-house on his way. 
A breast-high wall of rough stone ran diagonally over towards what 
was left of the old block-house, once perched on the brow of the cliff, 
and, as the captain reached the point of the bluff, he became aware of 
a dim figure standing silent and motionless between him and the souih- 
ern face of the antiquated work. Another man whose thoughts were 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


27 


following the eastward windings of that misty valley, was it not? 
Another keeping sleepless vigil ? 

Who’s that?” in low tone, he suddenly hailed. A start, a quick 
turn, then prompt advance and answer ; 

“ Sergeant Ellis, sir.” 

The deep collar of his ov’^ercoat was turned up about his ears, so 
that the face was well-nigh hidden, but the voice was calm and firm. 

“ You keep late hours, sergeant.” 

‘‘Not without warrant, captain.” 

“ Your warrant might suffer, sir, if the colonel knew you had lights 
at two o’clock.” 

“It is by his authority, sir, that one lantern burns all night; that 
is the one the captain sees.” 

Rolfe paused, baffled. 

“ Then I believe I will light a cigar at your lantern,” he finally 
said, and, turning, he moved away towards the low wooden building 
behind him. Ellis promptly followed, then sprang ahead and opened 
the door for his superior’s entrance. 

“ Let me offer the captain a match : that is an oil lantern.” And, 
striking a lucifer on the strip of sandpaper, he held it forth. Rolfe 
missed the flame with the end of his weed. Light came to him, but 
not to his cigar. Muffled though his face remained in the depths of 
that cavalry collar. Sergeant Ellis’s lips and chin were visible through 
the opening in the front and in the glare of the little match. 

“ When did you shave off your beard, sergeant? I should hardly 
have known you.” 

The lips trembled, but the dark eyes, the deep voice, were steady 
as ever : 

“ Last evening, sir.” 


III. 

The northwest winds that had finally banked up the southern 
Clouds and squeezed down a dismal drizzle the night of Miss Guthrie’s 
departure now veered and whisked away the moist and plashing veil, 
and the afternoon sunshine of the day that followed streamed across 
the broad mesa in a flood of grateful warmth and radiance. The 
colonel ordered out the entire command, to the utter consternation of 
Miss Winifred Berrien and the supreme disgust of some half a dozen 


28 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


junior officers, who, counting on the weather indications at nine A.M., 
had eagerly accepted Mrs. Berrien’s suggestion that they spend their 
rainy afternoon at the majoi'’s hospitable quarters, by way of making 
it pleasant for two young damsels from town and three or four from 
the fort itself, all of whom were supposed to be deeply interested and 
engaged in the embroidery of certain altar-cloths, lectiirn and pulpit 
adornments, with which to rejoice the eyes of their amiable chaplain at 
Christmas-tide. Here it was well along in November, and, beyond a 
vast amount of chatter and conjecture over the prospective pleasure of 
the reverend dominie, nothing had been done. 

True, the colonel had astonished everybody by ordering out the 
entire regiment, at least the eight companies thereof present at the post, 
to parade for inspection and review, equipped for field-service, at nine- 
thirty that morning, and only reluctantly recalled the order when the 
persistent plashing of the rain warned him that it would take a day or 
two of sunshine to dry out the clothing and equipments subjected to such 
a downpour. And then if anything should happen and they should be 
suddenly called upon to bundle everything right into the waiting train 

But, pshaw ! the thing wasn’t possible ; the idea could not be 

entertained. Of course matters were looking squally, very squally, up 
there in the Dakotas, and everybody from the Missouri to the moun- 
tains and north of the Platte was already out in the field, and, in little 
detachments from the scattered posts even far away in Montana, even 
far in southern Wyoming, the soldiery were converging towards those 
swarming agencies where thousands of truculent warriors of the great 
Dakota nation were drawing rations for every man, woman, child, and 
pappoose they possessed. Be it known to the reader that paternalism 
is rampant in the land, — that while peace societies and Indian rights 
associations and prayerful congregations away at the Atlantic seaboard 
are deluging the press with diatribes upon the wrongs of the red man 
and the criminal neglect of the nation, and declaring that 

Man’s inhumanity to Lo 

Makes countless Indians mourn, 

in this last century of dishonor” Uncle Sam has disbursed millions 
upon millions in the desperately hopeless task of filling the aboriginal 
stomach, and in striving by means of honest census to reduce the 
number of the ‘‘ countless” so pathetically referred to. Indians would 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


29 


make splendid ward politicians, and how it is that the sachems of 
Tammany have not long since possessed themselves of so available a 
means of swelling their ranks passeth all understanding. After the 
Indian had had himself, several wives, and his blooming olive- 
branches, oksheelah, wicincha,^^ boys and girls, and such pappooses as 
his better halves had at the back (either of home production or bor- 
rowed for the moment from the tepee of Two-Bricks-in-his-Hat), duly 
enumerated, would he not swell the census of his tribe by judicious 
distribution of all his wives’ relations among those tepees not already 
checked off? Oh, if the truth could ever reach the ears of the general 
public, what tales of Indian sagacity might not yet be in store for 
them ! What annals might not be unfolded ! Dealing with his own, 
his white children, who are non-voters. Uncle Sam serves out one 
ration a day to each enlisted soldier. The wife, and the lads and lasses 
that tumbled about the married men’s quarters in the queer old days, 
were all to be fed from that one ration, unless, perchance, mamma was 
a laundress. But when dealing with the wronged and injured red 
man he could not be too magnanimous. Every head counted. The 
mumbling old beldame, great-grandmother of ‘‘countless thousands,” 
braced up from the edge of the grave for the occasion. The big-bellied 
little four-year-olds, revelling in the dirt about the reeking shambles, 
the tiny, hour-old pappoose, even many a puppy, blanket-swathed and 
slung squaw-back, passing for a wee baby, — anything he could show 
as possessing a spark of Indian life was duly credited to the warrior 
lord of the lodge for another ration, — a full one. Cattle might and 
did shrink, but to the Indian there is more meat in a lean cow than in 
the stall-fed ox to the white, for the reason that “everything goes.” 
Horns and hoofs are the only things the Indian doesn’t eat. Agents 
might and did cheat and steal, but so did the Indian, and many a 
rejoicing old sinner has been credited with a family of twelve when 
his sole available domestic assets consisted of two squaws and three 
children, the pappooses having been borrowed, or personated by 
bundled-up doggies, the grandmother being public property, passed 
around for the occasion ; the others, pickaninnies painted so as to look 
entirely unlike the grinning urchins counted in the flock of brother 
Stab-in-the-Dark whose people had just been enumerated. There were 
agents who lent themselves to that sort of thing because the more 
Indians they could show as their especial wards, the more barrels and 
boxes and bales were invoiced to that agency and deftly “ raked off” 


30 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


en route. There was a time when the man who wouldn’t make hay 
when such a sun shone was looked upon as an unprofitable servant who 
couldn’t contribute to campaign funds. What the devil do you 
suppose we had you made agent ’way up at Gallatin for?” asked an 
irate political boss” of a deposed and crestfallen late-incumbent who 
came home superseded. 

Why, it was you and our Congressman who exposed the stealings 
of my predecessor and had him fired. I supposed you wouldn’t stand 
that sort of thing. I supposed you wanted me to be perfectly honest.” 

“ Of course we did ; but, damn it, you don’t seem to understand ; 
he was paying to the other party.” 

But railways and telegraphs have brought all this, or much of it, 
within range, so to speak. Things are changed, except perhaps human 
nature, white or Indian. There has been failure to provide for carry- 
ing out the earnest recommendations of the best friend the Indian has 
known for years, — the man whose word was his bond, whom they feared 
in war and loved and trusted in peace. There has been shrinkage 
both in the cattle and the count. No matter how much beef might 
shrivel on the hoof in the old days, the Sioux, if he were at all 
sharp, got more than was his share ; and most of the Sioux were sharp 
as their knives. Other tribes might have starved and suffered, but 
not they. With the new order of things came full stomachs for hosts 
of other aborigines, but fault-finding for these Dakotas. No more 
“tepee counts;” on the contrary, heads of families paraded their entire 
force, and, while enumerators with book and pencil went along the 
front of the line. Uncle Sam’s blue-coats on the border keenly watched 
the rear, and put sudden stop to all sham or swapping. Now the 
shrinkage came to be privation, and, turning in appeal to the general 
who headed the great commission and won their faith, appealing to 
Crook for the remedies Congress had utterly failed to provide, their 
hearts were bowed with the tidings that the Great Spirit had sum- 
moned the “Gray Fox” to happier hunting-grounds. 

Then was there no other appeal ? One, — one which had never 
failed to wring from the government the concession desired. Old 
chiefs might plead in vain, but the blood of the young warriors is hot 
and strong, the lust for reputation as vehement as of yore. Every 
brave stood ripe for action, and no Indian leader ever equalled in craft, 
in cunning, in adroitness, the scowling old sinner Sitting Bull, and no 
man need doubt that it was he who gave the cue. Every medicine- 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


31 


man in the Dakota nation began to preach the coming of the Messiah, 
but the Messiah craze was only the means to an end. Un-koi-to, the 
Indian Redeemer, — he who ordained that his children should prepare 
themselves by the savage rites of the ghost-dance to meet him and all 
their dead ancestry and with them wipe the pale-face from the land, — 
Un-koi-to was a fraud of the first water, a masquerading scamp of a 
white man at odds with his own kind, and progressive Indians knew 
it. But even to such a saviour, when urged by the charlatans in every 
village, the superstitious nature of the red man turned in eager adula- 
tion, and the ghastly, maddening dance went on. Night after night 
all over the broad Northwest the skies were aglow with the Indian 
fires. The vault of the heavens echoed to the sound of frenzied shriek 
and yell and the furious beat of the Indian drum. It is but a step 
from the ghost-dance to the scalp-dance, — from Indian worship to 
Indian war. A year ago, in every valley of beautiful South Dakota 
cattle were browsing on the bunch-grass, settlers ploughing on the 
plains, women sewing and singing under the new-raised roof-trees, and 
gleeful children playing in the golden heaps of corn. Now the plough 
stands idle in the abandoned furrow ; the cattle have gone, to make 
up, presumably, for the reservation shrinkage; women^s songs have 
changed to sobs, children’s laughter hushed to terrified silence, as the 
settlers seek the refuge of the towns. New red glare in the sky at 
night, and the new ranch-house lights the way of many a savage war- 
rior, bound with arms and ponies to swell the hostile ranks in the 
mazes of the Bad Lands. 

‘‘ God ojily knows how soon it may come,” read Farquhar, but a 
week before, but I think you would better be with your command.” 
Farquhar relinquished his shooting-trip and at once got him home. 
He could not bear to tell his people, in the happiest garrison the regi- 
ment had ever known, that perhaps it might be as well to drop the 
plans for the cavalry ball and the Christmas theatricals, the cherished 
projects for the coming holidays. He hated to have any one ask him 
if he thought there were not just a chance — just a chance — of their 
being ordered up there. But even before he left he and Berrien had 
been talking the matter over. The idea was to always have the regi- 
ment ready for anything, and it did seem as though with all the 
summer and fall marching and scouting and manoeuvring in the field 
they were, as the Englishmen would say, pretty fit.” Fit, certainly, 
for any amount of scouting or fighting on the southern plains, and yet 


32 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


utterly unprepared for the rigors of a Dakota winter. Any colonel 
who, serving in Arizona or in the Indian Territory, were to apply for 
canvas overcoats, blanket-lined, for fur caps, gloves, boots, leggings, 
etc., intended only for service in the high latitudes, would have been 
laughed at, if not snubbed. Farquhar decided it best not to let any 
of the women worry over a possibility. No use borrowing trouble, he 
said. Long years had the regiment served in that wintry land. 
Fierce and incessant had been its campaigns against the Indians. 
Dire had been its sufferings and losses. Only recently — only within 
the year — had they reached this paradise, with its hazy landscape, its 
lovely peaceful homes, its kindliness and greeting yet warm in remem- 
brance, the edge of its cheer still new and unworn. 

And then Kenyon came back from leave, a burly major of foot 
who had been visiting at his old home in Chicago, and was reported to 
be wearing the willow for a girl who had but just married a mere 
junior first lieutenant in the Eleventh, their predecessors along this 
line. It might be that Kenyon was cross and crabbed. The young- 
sters called him grumbly’^ at first acquaintance. It might be that he 
was so hipped and unhappy himself he could not bear to see the bliss 
and content on every face about him. He and Rolfe were congenial 
spirits, said the boys, for both of them got left.^^ But Kenyon, 
close-mouthed as he was at times, had watched things a day or two, 
and then had given Farquhar a pointer.’^ He had heard something, 
he said, at division head-quarters. Hence the order for ‘^turn out 
everybody, field-kits and fifty rounds.’^ 

The maddest man at mess at one-thirty was Mr. Carroll Brew- 
ster, — “ Curly B” his comrades called him in the years gone by, when 
he had much kink to the blond hair of his handsome head and not a 
vestige thereof to the down on his lip. Now, as first lieutenant of the 
“ Black Troop,’’ with a moustache all bristle and curl, and with a pate 
whereon the curls were cropped to regulation lines, he was a very 
different sort of fellow. All the morning long he had sat on a gar- 
rison court, where as swing member” he had not enough to do to 
keep him from brooding over his woes. He had counted on spending 
the hours from two until stables basking in the light of those wonder- 
ful, deep, dark eyes of Miss Winifred Berrien. Somewhat petted and 
spoiled in his earlier years of service, Brewster had had much of the 
nonsense knocked out of him in the harsh experiences of seven years 
in the saddle with a regiment renowned for its -touch-and-go sort of 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


33 


work. He had steadied greatly in those years, part of the process 
being due to his own latent good sense, and not a little thereof to 
incessant striving on the range to win high honors as a sharp-shooter, 
and to-day there was not a finer-looking soldier wearing the broad 
yellow stripes in the Twelfth than this same ex-dandy Curly 
Brewster.’’ There still lingered about him a certain repute for 
self-consciousness, if not for actual conceit, but he had grown to be 
thoroughly respected in the regiment, and was vastly popular with the 
men. He was ever ready to umpire their matches at base-ball, coach 
their shooting, lend his own fishing-tackle or shot-guns to longing 
sportsmen in the ranks who had none of their own, and he had won 
the lasting gratitude of C troop, two of whose men were being mobbed 
by a gang of toughs one windy night in Sheridan City just as Curly 
came trotting back en route to the post. “ He was off his horse and 
into that crowd quicker than winking,” said Murphy, and the way 
he laid over that gang with them white fists of his just made my 
sides crack with delight.” He had more sense than they gave him 
credit for, said the seniors of the regiment, after a while, and, barring 
an early experience, a cadet love-affair that he was long ago well over^ 
had never let himself go again, — never until the Twelfth came to 
settle in this happy valley and Winifred Berrien returned from her 
Eastern school. Then he went all of a sudden. Only one man did 
not see it : that was Berrien. Only one woman couldn’t forgive him 
his devotion ; and she had no business interfering, being herself other- 
wise disposed of. To his credit be it said, Brewster and the lady’s 
husband were about the only men who appeared unaware of this 
autumnal infatuation. Nevertheless, in those numberless ways in 
which women can claim and secure the appearance, at least, of atten- 
tion from men, the dame had managed to monopolize considerable of 
his spare time up to the week of Miss Berrien’s coming, after which it 
was not he who rode to town, but she who drove out to the post and 
gent for him to come and talk to her as she leaned back in her stylish 
victoria and looked up at him from under her tinted lashes. She 
could have found it in her heart to strangle the lovely girl so darkly, 
richly beautiful, but her call upon ‘‘the ladies” had been returned 
when she was conspicuously absent from home, and opportunities for 
meeting were not afforded by the damsel’s parents. There were girls 
at the post who were quick to see how “ Antinoiis” had lost his heart ; 
but these, those at le^t who were near enough to Winifred to dare 

OFtHE 

eup.'.couNCrt., 
bO,' /‘‘ON- 


34 A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 

allude to the matter at all, were content to archly quote the warning, — 

Change the name and not the letter, 

Marry for worse and not for better. 

There was one man with whom Brewster was at odds, a sentiment 
due to an old difference when both were younger, and that was K-olfe. 
There was one man the gallant major especially liked and swore by, 
and that was Kolfe. These facts, added to the coincidence that the 
captain had never forgotten the hot words used by his second lieutenant 
long years before, made a combination most unfortunate for a fellow so 
much in love as was Carroll Brewster. 

On this particular morning he had striven to hurry matters through 
on the court, — to try three or four cases where the accused were only 
too ready to plead guilty and throw themselves on the mercy,” etc., 
and then adjourn on the specious plea of giving the judge-advocate 
time to write up the proceedings. But the president of the tribunal 
had other views, and held him. Brewster knew that Randolph and 
Hunt and Ridgeway, perhaps others, liad taken advantage of the 
weather and no drill to slip over to Berrien^s for a blithe morning 
hour with the girls. He could imagine that })retty parlor, with its 
pictures and piano, its attractive curtains and portieres, the group of 
bright, sweet faces, the animated chat, Winifred herself, in her dark, 
rich beauty, seated at the piano, with Ridgeway hanging over her, 
eager to turn the leaves, eager to do anything that might keep him at 
her side. Confound the fellow! he had money and a handsome old 
family homestead. What business had he roughing it in the cavalry, 
with no end of chances of getting his head knocked off, when his 
doting mother was so eager to have him come home, marry, settle 
down, and take up the management of the property his father iiad left 
him two years before? Poor “Curly” ! he could only gaze wistfully 
out across the dripping parade from his seat in the dark court-room 
and watch the glinting of the firelight on the Berriens’ parlor window. 
The major loved a broad fireplace and a hickory blaze, and here he had 
them to his heart’s content for the first time in full twenty years of 
army wanderings. How must that firelight enhance the cosiness and 
comfort of the scene within ! How must it be flickering about the 
dark masses of her lustrous hair at this very moment ! How 

“ How^ do you vote, Brewster ? Are your wits wool-gathering ?” 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 35 

He pulled himself together as best he could ; but that was a 
morning of torment. 

And now to think that, after all, he could have no moment at her 
side this day ! To think that Farquhar should have ordered them out 
for hours of pottering around at saddle-bags, nose-bags, side-lines, 
lariats, picket-pins, and all that sort of truck ! It was simply barbar- 
ous. He curbed his tongue as well as he knew how, for plainly he saw 
that his chums were mischievously exulting over him, but any one who 
knew Brewster could see his wrath and discomfiture. The announce- 
ment was made just before luncheon was over. The adjutant came bolt- 
ing in with the order, and shutting his ears to the chorus of expletives. 

What time did you say boots and saddles would sound?’’ fiercely 
demanded Randolph. 

In a quarter of an hour : so you’ve no time to lose saying swear- 
words or asking damfool questions. — And as for you. Curly, you’re for 
guard to-morrow.” 

Brewster finished his cup of tea in an undignified gulp, quitting 
the table and the room in three strides. There was just time to scurry 
over to Berrien’s and see her for five minutes before he had to jump 
back to his quarters and into riding-boots, etc. Any pretext would 
answer, — the dance to-night, for instance. 

^^Get my field-rig ready at once, and bring my horse up here in ten 
minutes,” he called to his servant, slashed at his natty uniform with a 
whisk broom, and bounded out of the door, only to encounter the man 
of all others he least cared to see coming in. 

Were you just going, Brewster? There is a matter I want very 
much to ask you about, and I thought this the time to catch you with- 
out fail.” The voice was that of Captain Rolfe. 

‘^I am just going out, captain, and I’m hurried; but if you will 
step in I’ll be back in ten minutes.” 

Well-1, ordinarily I would not detain you, and-d, pardon me, if 
you were going to Major Berrien’s they are all at luncheon. I have 
just left there.” 

Brewster flushed in spite of his eflbrt at control. His first impulse 
was to say he was going over anyhow, if only to leave word, but, since 
he could not hope to see her, what was the use? It chafed him, how- 
ever, to note that Rolfe, in that calmly superior way of his, was press- 
ing on into the hall, as much as to say, “ It is my will that you 
give up w^hat you have in view and attend at once to my behest,” 


36 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


just as though Brewster were still his second lieutenant, instead of 
First Lieutenant Brewster commanding the Black Horse’^ troop. It 
must be confessed that there was about Bolfe an intangible something 
that ever seemed to give that impression to the juniors. It was one of 
the things that set their teeth on edge, as they expressed it, and set 
them against him. Feeling as he did towards the captain, and ex- 
asperated at the way in which events seemed conspiring against him, 
Brewster threw open his door. 

Walk in, as I said, captain. Make yourself at home. I wish to 
go into Haddock’s a moment, and will be right back.” It wasn’t that 
he had anything to say to Haddock, but Haddock had succeeded him 
as second lieutenant of Rolfe’s troop, and was no fonder of his stern, 
self-willed commander than Curly himself had been. It was simply 
that he would not yield a moral victory to Rolfe, and that in naming 
Haddock he knew he gave at least a slight return for the annoyance 
afforded him by the captain’s untimely call. 

Giving no sign whatever as Brewster sprang away down the steps, 
the captain passed on into the plainly-furnished sitting-room. Already 
McCann was busy hauling out the lieutenant’s field-boots, breeches, 
and overcoat, whisking off the dust and indulging in Milesian com- 
ment as he did so. At sight of Rolfe he abruptly ceased, bustled for- 
ward and offered the captain a chair, and a moment later bolted across 
the hall to perform similar service in overhauling and dusting Mr. 
Randolph’s possessions. 

Left to himself, Rolfe wearily turned to the mantel, and, without 
show of interest, glanced over the various photographs there displayed. 
They were mainly of army friends, young fellows in whom he felt 
slight interest at any time and none at all now. So were those in the 
basket on the round table. Brewster was popular, if one were to judge 
by the array of pictures that had been sent to him by their prototypes. 
Then there was a large, handsome album lying open on the desk near 
the window. Turning listlessly thither, Rolfe gave a shrug of the 
shoulders, something almost like a shudder, at sight of the photo- 
graph which lay uppermost, a cabinet portrait, highly burnished and 
finished, of an exuberant woman in evening dress. In that neighborhood ' 
everybody knew her by sight. He himself had received invitations in 
her hand to lunch or to dinner. He knew the writing of the note that 
lay beside the album, first page uppermost. He would have had no 
eyes at all had he not seen the Carroll, mon ami,” with which it began. 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


37 


With a shiver of disgust he whirled over a page of the album, as though 
to cover and hide the beguiling face, the betraying words, and then 
Brewster came bounding back and in. Rolfe^s hand was still on the 
album as he turned to face him. The eyes of the two men met, and again 
Brewster flushed hotly. He remembered that only in the morning’s 
mail had the large packet arrived containing this unasked-for and un- 
expected addition to his portrait-gallery. He had not opened it until 
after court, — had not more than glanced at the photograph even then, 
beautiful as it was from an artistic point of view. Then that note and 
that idiotic semi-sentimental beginning! She had never called him 
Carroll, but in certain evasive, insinuating, in — well, we have no word 
for it in all the vocabulary of the United States — in a way he could 
not but see and could not find a way to object to, she had been lately 
verging in that direction. It was “ Now, Mr. Carroll Brewster,” or 
‘^my good friend Carroll,” or ‘‘Sir Carroll,” or in-some-way Carroll ; 
but here was an out-and-out Carroll, the first of the kind. A month 
before he might not have flinched, now he shrank from the mere idea 
of familiarity of the faintest kind. He had been striving to cut loose 
from her in every possible way, but hers was a friendship that “ clung 
closer than a brother,” and just as sure as shooting Rolfe must have 
seen that infernal picture, those misleading words. Brewster read it in 
Bolfe’s calm brown eyes, but he would not discuss matters with him, 
much less stoop to explain. 

You wish to see me, captain. Will you take a seat ?” 

“ No. What I have to ask need occupy but little time, and the 
call will sound in a moment or two. I am going to ask you a question, 
and as man to man I want you to answer it.” He paused, as though 
awaiting submissive reply. 

“ And the question ?” asked Brewster, finally and unyielding. 

“ I was in hopes you would assure me of a readiness to answer. 
Whatsoever have been the differences between us in the past, you can 
never accuse me of having pried into your affairs, and the question I wish 
to ask is one of deep importance to myself, and its answer cannot, I be- 
lieve, unpleasantly involve you.” And still Brewster stood silent, the 
blue eyes looking straight into the brown. “ I will not prolong matters 
unnecessarily. What 1 desire to know, Mr. Brewster, is this : Have you 
or have you not, some knowledge of the past history of Sergeant Ellis?” 

“ Pardon me. Captain Rolfe, but I do not see how that can concern 
you in the least.” 


38 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


I have stated substantially that it did,” was the quiet reply, after 
a mementos thought. It concerns me very deeply. I need to know 
something of his antecedents. I have reason to ask, and I repeat my 
question.” 

There was a painful pause. Then Brewster spoke firmly : 

“ Captain Bolfe, it is a question I refuse to answer.” 


IV. 

That night, despite the long hours in the saddle, the young officers 
had bidden their lady friends to an informal dance in the hop-room. 
It was just a week after Nita Guthrie’s adventure, and already, except 
in the thoughts of two or three men, that strange affair was a thing of 
the past. People had settled down to an acceptance of her own ex- 
planation of the cause, not that it was entirely satisfactory, but because 
no other seemed plausible. Just why a girl should have been rendered 
nervous and upset becauses he had had a proposal, Mrs. Vance, of course, 
could not understand, — “ especially,” said she, ‘‘a girl who was reputed 
to have had so many offers.” It was laughingly remarked by various 
military Benedicts that since the moment when Miss Guthrie’s scream 
of terror had appalled the garrison the dames and damsels of their 
several households had shown an unwonted degree of timidity visit- 
ing about the post after night-fall, and that much more than the tradi- 
tional amount of hunting behind curtains and under bedsteads was now 
going on. Berrien was especially jocular, and more than ever disposed 
to tell his cronies in her presence that Berengaria had said this or 
Berengaria had done that, the this or that being something more than 
usually absurd or improbable. But in the conversati^'iis held of late 
in the sanctity of Berengaria’s boudoir the major had been anything 
but jocular. There was one incident of that evening that had caused 
him deep perplexity. He had never for a moment forgotten his wife’s 
allusion to Winifred, — Winifred, the apple of his eye. The possi- 
bility of her having lost her young heart to, or even having come to 
feel more than passing interest in, Carroll Brewster, was something 
that troubled him far more than he cared to admit. Like many 
another father, he had gone on fancying his daughter only a child, — 
one to whom the idea of falling in love would not ])resent itself for 
years to come, and then only on parental intimation that it was expected 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


39 


of her. Personally and officially he had nothing against Brewster. He 
liked him quite as well as he did any of the junior officers, and he liked 
most of them very much indeed. It was as soldierly, manly a lot of 
young fellows as one could ask to see, but in the close comradeship and 
intimacy of frontier life men get to know one another so thoroughly 
and so well tliat the foibles, weaknesses, and waywardness of the animal 
are apt to be far more prominently mentioned in garrison-chat than his 
sterling or lovable traits. Some men, it may be said, have to die before 
their virtues can be in the least appreciated. 

More than once had the major closely interrogated his wife as 
to the reason of her statement. Had the young fellow dared to speak 
to Winifred without first asking his permission? Had Winifred 
dared to fall in love before — but no, that was impossible. What 
makes you think she cares for him ?’’ — How do you know ?’’ — “ Why 
should she care for him, anyhow?’’ were the impatient questions that 
rose to his lips. To one and all she had simply replied that she knew 
because she knew, — woman’s unanswerable reason. No, Winifred had 
not told her. They had never exchanged a word upon the subject. 
No, Mr. Brewster had not spoken, if by that was meant of love or 
marriage, for Winifred would have told her on the instant. But half 
a dozen other people had spoken. The whole garrison could see he 
was deeply in love with her. Every glance, word, gesture, act, told 
the story with unerring certainty. “Is there a day, is there an hour, 
when it is possible for him to see her, speak with her, that he is not 
by her side?” asked Mrs. Berrien. “You must realize it, major, and 
you must decide what should be done. She likes him well, that I 
know, for she is ever ready to dance with him or ride with him, and I 
can see how her eyes brighten and her color rises when his step or his 
voice is heard on the veranda. 

“But, confound it, Bess!” — which was much nearer Madam’s 
proper name, — “ he hasn’t anything but his pay.” 

Mrs. Berrien laughed softly. 

“ But, Richard, dear, even that detriment has occasionally been 
overlooked.” 

“Oh, of course. Exactly. I know. Neither had I. That is 
what you mean, I suppose. But things were very different then.” 

“Granted again, Dick, — very different; so much so that were 
things as they used to be I would be utterly opposed to her marrying 
in the army.” 


40 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


This being just exactly the view the major had not taken, he could 
only stare at her in astonishment. 

‘‘ Bess, what on earth do you mean ♦ 

“Just what I say, Richard. I like what I’ve seen of Mr. Brewster 
very much, and I don’t wonder Winnie fancies him. He is a gentle- 
man ; he is a fine soldier ; he has a good record ; he is well connected ; 
his family is one of the best that you or I know; he has everything 
in point of fact to recommend him that you had, my liege, and he has 
none of your bad habits. You used to drink and smoke and play 
poker, and, Richard, sometimes you used to swear.” 

“ Well, everybody did in those days.” 

“ Exactly, and hardly anybody does to-day, except, perhaps, one 
hears a little odd language when the wind is blowing from the drill- 
ground. But in other respects things are, indeed, different. You and 
your cronies sometimes talk about how slow and how indifferent young 
officers are now as compared with what they were twenty years ago. 
Dick, if the army were to-day what it was when I married you I 
would whisk Winnie out of this garrison and never let her venture 
inside another. But it isn’t. In every possible way that a woman 
and a mother can see, it is vastly better, and you know it. I can con- 
ceive of worse fates for our daughter than that she should marry such 
a man as Mr. Brewster and into such a society as we have here to-day. 
You are eagerly looking forward to your promotion. Do you think 
being lieutenant-colonel will compensate you for leaving such comrades 
and friends as you have in the Twelfth ?” 

“ I am hoping to exchange.” 

“ You can’t, Dick. Nobody will transfer with you who once gets 
into the Twelfth. And now as to Winifred. You always liked Mr. 
Brewster. You rather preferred him until lately. What has changed 
your view ?” 

“ Nothing, except — why — why, Bess, you must have seen or heard, 
for one thing, this affair with Mrs. you know.” 

“ As utterly one-sided an affair as ever was known,” said Mrs. 
Berrien, stoutly. “ I believe I can see clear through it. I despise the 
woman. She has always made a dead set at some one of the officers 
stationed here, I am told. She was just as absurd about Mr. Martin 
of the Eleventh, — everybody says so in town ; and she picked out 
Brewster because he was the handsomest of the new lot when our 
regiment came in. Ask any one you choose, and I think my view will 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 4 ][ 

hold good. Ask Captain Rolfe what he thinks; and he and Mr. 
Brewster are not on friendly terms.” 

“I have asked Rolfe; I asked him only this evening,” replied 
Berrien, turning redder ; “ and he begged to be excused from express- 
ing an opinion.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, he wouldn’t say, but he had seen something or other that 
we hadn’t, and he doesn’t like Brewster. I can’t have a man making 
love to Winnie one minute and that calcimined creature the next. I 
wish there were no dance to-night. I want to see Rolfe again. Who 
takes her ?” 

“ Mr. Brewster, of course. He asked her two days ago, when the 
affair was first projected. He is in the parlor now ; but so are all the 
others.” 

The major stepped over to the window and began thrumming with 
his pudgy fingers upon the pane. All the joviality and gladness seemed 
gone from his face. The lights were already beginning to twinkle in 
the quarters across the parade, and darkness, “ wafted downward like 
a feather,” was shutting out the long line of shadowy bluffs beyond the 
stream. Down-stairs he could hear the sound of joyous chatter, the 
deep voices of the men mingling with the rippling, silvery laughter he 
knew and loved so well. How happy the child seemed ! How she 
loved the regiment and gloried in his profession ! How proud she was 
at school of the photographs he had from time to time sent of his 
brother officers, and how the other girls, her letters declared, envied 
her because she was a soldier’s daughter and had lived on the wild 
frontier ! He could hear the sound of other girlish voices, too, Wini- 
fred’s friends from town, but he found that his ear listened only for 
hers. How blithe and musical and full of hope and gladness it seemed ! 
How lovely she looked as she came down dressed for dinner just as he 
returned from that odd, constrained talk with Rolfe! Poor Rolfe! he 
was given over to the blue devils now, sure enough. He and Kenyon 
and “ Pills,” the doctor, formed a triumvirate of sympathetic souls, for 
since Jennie and “the kids” had gone Holden’s life seemed to have 
fallen into the sear and yellow leaf. Kenyon, as in duty bound, 
was making the circuit of the garrison returning calls just now, but 
Rolfe went nowhere except to the doctor’s. There he could be found 
almost every evening, for ever since Nita Guthrie’s visit the walls of 
the old house seemed charmed to him. “ Begad,” said the major, “ I’ll 


42 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


slip over there to-night myself while the rest of the folks are dancing. 
I want to see what it is he is holding back.’^ 

For the life of him he could not be repellent in manner to Brewster 
when he went down-stairs. The three young fellows honored with 
invitations on this particular evening were Brewster, Randolph, and 
Ridgeway, — Brewster because he was to be Winifred^s escort to the 
hop, the others because they had made the best of matters and invited 
the other girls, Ridgeway, be it known, not without inward exaspera- 
tion. He fancied Miss Kitty Pennoyer as a substitute for Winifred 
Berrien about as much or as little as one is content with a back seat 
when he cannot have a box. But it kept him “in touch with the 
house,’’ so to speak, and gave him opportunities at least of occasional 
word with the beautiful girl whom he so admired. He knew he was 
no match for Brewster so Tar as physique or reputation was concerned, 
but then girls had been known to prefer patrimonial estate to personal 
charms, and he meant at least to try the effect of his solid qualifications 
as against those which made Brewster so attractive to the sex. He 
knew the major liked him well enough, and he thought he could count 
on the good offices of Mrs. Berrien, but he was not so sure about 
Winifred. When the jovial major appeared he was in readiness to 
pay his respects at once, and was cordially welcomed by that red-faced 
veteran ; so was Randolph ; and then there stood Brewster at Winnie’s 
side, both, as it so happened, looking straight at him. 

“Well, by Jove, they do make almost an ideal couple!” he said 
to himself. Brewster fair, stalwart, straight, and soldierly, a picture 
of manliness and vigor. Winifred dark, yet with so rich a glow 
mantling the soft creamy skin, with such glorious deep brown-black 
eyes, so lovely and slender and graceful a form. Her shapely head 
seemed just on a level with his broad shoulder, and something he had 
been saying to her in low tone just as the others were greeting her 
father had sent the blood surging to her cheek. Berrien thought she 
had never seemed so beautiful, even in his fond eyes. For the first 
time he began to realize it was a woman, not a child, who stood before 
him. No wonder Brewster loved her with his whole soul. Why, if 
he didn’t ! — pshaw ! what was he thinking of? 

“ How are you, Brewster, lad ? Glad you’re here so early. Your 
troop made my eyes dance this afternoon.” Oh, surrender ignominious ! 
So ended his effort to be repe lent. How could he be, with Winifred’s 
soft eyes looking at him so wistfully, so fondly ? 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


43 


And it was good to see Brewster’s appreciation of the veteran’s 
allusion to his troop. Gorham, the captain, had been away on leave 
for some weeks, during which time the lieutenant had had command, 
and, soldier that he was, had done his utmost to improve the drill and 
efficiency of his men. It was about the only troop that did not come 
in for a rasping of some kind at the hands of the colonel that after- 
noon, and, being in Berrien’s battalion, reflected credit, of course, upon 
the major. Brewster’s eyes had kindled and he had lowered his sabre 
in glad acknowledgment of the brief words of commendation that fell 
from Farquhar’s lips as he com})leted his rigid inspection of the equip- 
ment of the glossy blacks, and the major had supplemented the words 
by a nod and a glance that spoke volumes. But, while all this was as 
joy to his soul, it was as nothing as compared with being praised by 
her father in her hearing. At that precise moment Carroll Brewster 
stood the happiest man within the limits of a crowded county. 

And now at ten o’clock the hop-room was well filled. A number 
of pleasant people had driven out from town. All the garrison girls 
were there, most of the elders among the mam.mas, all the juniors 
among the matrons, and the dance went merrily on. Delightful music 
the orchestra of the Twelfth was ever ready to play, and this night 
their leader seemed inspired. The affair was entirely informal. No 
written invitations had been sent out. Officers were all in undress 
uniform, but, with few exceptions, all were there, and the broad stripes 
of scarlet or yellow or white were to be seen everywhere throughout 
the room. Mrs. Berrien, a smile of motherly pride in her handsome 
dark eyes, was chatting pleasantly with the wife of a local magnate 
who could not say enough about Winifred’s grace and beauty, and the 
gaze of both women seemed to follow the child as she appeared literally 
to float over the smoothly-polished floor, just lightly borne on Brewster’s 
stalwart arm. It was one of the oldest and sweetest of the Strauss 
waltzes that was being played at the moment, Geschichten aus dem 
Wienerwald,” and, slowly reversing and turning, with the eyes of more 
than half the spectators and wall-flowers upon them, Brewster and 
Winifred were now gliding across the upper end of the hall within a 
few feet of the smiling row of lookers-on, almost within touch of the 
mother’s hand. His face wore a look no woman could for an instant 
mistake. His eyes, full of passionate tenderness, were fixed at the 
instant upon he/lovely face. His lips were moving. Something was 
being said. 


44 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


There is one couple at least that is utterly lost to the rest of the 
world/’ said Mrs. Vance, for of a sudden the lovely upturned face was 
bowed almost upon his arm, and the deep, dark eyes were veiled and 
the soft flush seemed to leap through the creamy skin to her very 
temples. 

“ Oh, has that fellow Ridgeway no sense whatever ?” she continued, 
with all a woman’s horror of an interrupted love-scene, for at the in- 
stant Ridgeway had darted forth, watch in hand, with a triumphant 
shout, Time ! my half!” And without a word, with one swift upward 
glance into Brewster’s longing eyes, — a glance fairly brimming over 
with meaning, — Winifred released herself from the half-encircling arm 
and placed her hand on Ridgeway’s sleeve. Another moment, and she 
was being whirled away under the guidance of a very different partner. 

“ Miss Berrien’s fan,” said Brewster, bowing a moment later before 
her mother. “ I was charged to place it in your hands.” His heart 
was beating high. The music seemed thrilling, throbbing, through his 
veins. He longed to hold forth both hands and say, Read my secret. 
Know my heart ! I love her ! oh, I love her 1” But there sat Mrs. 
Van Kess, tlie banker’s wife, with broad sympathy and approval glow- 
ing in her good-natured face. 

Ah, Mr. Brewster, it wasn’t easy to give up half that dance, — 
was it, now? Why do you do such things in the army ?” 

“ There were only four waltzes, Mrs. Van Ness,” smiled Mrs. 
Berrien. Mr. Brewster had had one, and had claimed this, and Mr. 
Ridgeway had had none at all, and Winifred and I both thought he 
ought not to be denied entirely. It is the only round dance he knows.” 

Saying no word, Brewster had dropped behind Mrs. Berrien’s chair. 

“He doesn’t know that any too well,” said Mrs. Van Ness to 
herself. “Where could he have learned to dance?” The floor was 
crowded at the moment, and unusually slippery, so that reversing or 
avoidance of collision was rendered the more difficult even for experts. 
Twice had Ridgeway bumped into somebody or other, without grievous 
disaster, but now, as luck would have it, came catastrophe. In the 
effort to check himself suddenly just as he seemed shooting into contact 
with a slender light-battery man whom he could not have touched had 
he tried, the young fellow’s feet flew from under him. Left to herself, 
Winifred would no more have fallen than a bird. Drowning men 
clutch at straws, and poor, rich Ridgeway’s instant impulse on feeling 
himself going was to clasp her the tighter, dragging her with him in 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


45 


his ignominious crash. His tumble was bad enough, though he was 
unhurt, but hers was worse. With violent shock her head struck the 
polished floor, and the room swam around. A dozen men flew to aid 
her, but Brewster seemed to have seen it coming. He leaped through 
the air, and, bending over the prostrate Ridgeway, liad her up in his 
strong arms and over at the window before another hand could touch 
her. 

“ Quick, Hunt, some water he ordered, his teeth firmly set. Then 
how his eyes softened as he looked down into her pallid face ! Oh, 
my darling, my darling!” he murmured in that little, shell-like ear; 
and then, with wild anxiety in her eyes, Mrs. Berrien burst through 
the sympathetic circle. 

It was all over in a moment. The music never ceased. She was 
stunned only for an instant, and then, though Mrs. Berrien would have 
interposed, like the little heroine she was, Winifred was on her feet and 
holding out her hand to poor, bewildered, miserable Ridgeway. 

“ But come, we must finish the dance,” she said, and in so saying 
riveted the chains of his serfdom. 

I wouldn^t dance with him again,” said Mrs. Vance, who had an 
opinion to express on every subject. Why, he almost broke her head.” 

^‘If she didn^t shekl break his heart, Mrs. Vance,” was old Ken- 
yon’s reply, as he watched the scene. “ That girl’s a lady.” 

‘‘Am I not to be honored to-night, Mr. Brewster?” said a low 
voice in his ear as he stood silent, anxious, preoccupied, by Mrs. Ber- 
rien’s side, his eyes following Winifred about the room. The very 
intonation made him turn cold. 

“ I beg your pardon, Mrs. Knowles, I only saw a moment ago that 
you were here.” 

She was leaning on her husband’s arm. “ Not half a bad fellow, 
if he is a blind fool,” said those of his own sex who knew him. Years 
her senior, he was yet her slave. Witness his coming out from town 
this late November night solely at her behest to attend a dance to which 
neither was bidden. 

“ Ah, I wonder you saw at all, ray friend, with that vision before 
your eyes ; and I presume that was why you had no time to come in 
person with your invitation.” 

“ No invitations are sent out for these little dances, Mrs. Knowles.” 

“ There, there, I’m not going to u{)braid you here. — Mr. Knowles, 
would you get me a glass of water ? — Mr. Brewster, will you not pre- 


46 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


sent me to Mrs. Berrien? We have exchanged calls, but I have not 
yet had the pleasure.” 

What could he do ? The request was as audible to Mrs. Berrien as 
to him, and, even as she spoke, Mrs. Knowles passed around in front 
of him so as almost to face the major^s wife, taking the introduction 
as a matter of course. He glanced appealingly at Mrs. Berrien as he 
murmured the name. He blessed her in his heart of hearts for the 
calm courtesy with which she greeted the local celebrity. He bit his 
lips with vexation at Mrs. Knowles’s very first words: 

I could not resist the longing to know you, Mrs. Berrien, for I am 
utterly lost in admiration of your lovely daughter.” She, daring to 
speak of one so pure, so innocent, so utterly beyond her ! Turning 
impatiently away, he encountered Major Berrien’s eyes fixed upon him 
with a look that was not good to see. He stepped forward, hoping to 
explain, but Berrien, who had just entered the room after an absence 
of over half an hour, whirled sharply about, plainly indicating that he 
did not wish to speak. This was bad enough. He had been near the 
seventh heaven of bliss. He had almost touched the gates of pearl. 
Now they were receding through clouds and darkness, fading in the 
distance. But worse was to come. Mrs. Knowles had seated herself 
by Mrs. Berrien’s side, pouring forth rapid compliment and confidence. 
The music had ceased. Ridgeway, with Winifred on his arm, was 
approaching slowly, checked every moment by man or woman who 
begged to hear that she was not shocked or seriously hurt. It was not 
until slie was within a few yards that Winifred caught sight of her 
mother’s companion, — caught sight of the faint gesture and the warn- 
ing in her mother’s eyes. Then she pressed her escort’s arm and 
turned him away. 

Oh, do call Miss Winifred here. I so long to meet her, Mrs. 
Berrien,” cried Mrs. Knowles ; and what could Mrs. Berrien do ? 
The flush died out of Winifred’s cheeks, the soft lustre from her eyes. 
Obedient to her mother’s unwilling summons, she stood before the lady 
from town, but she stood erect, and there was not the faintest cordiality 
in her manner. The long-lashed lids drooped over her eyes as she 
bowed to the elder woman, but her hand, to Ridgeway’s delight, re- 
fused to withdraw from his arm. No one saw more plainly than did 
Mrs. Knowles that nothing could be more unwelcome than that intro- 
duction ; and it stung her to the quick. Checking the fulsome flat- 
teries that were ready on her tongue, she said, — 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


47 


** I could not go, Miss Berrien, without saying how frightened I 
was for you and how glad to see you were not hurt/’ Then, turning 
languidly, “And now, Carroll, will you take me to the carriage? 
Somebody can call Mr. Knowles. — (5ood-night, Mrs. Berrien. Do 
come and see me.” And, taking Mr. Brewster’s unoffered arm, she 
led him down the brightly-lighted and observant room. 


V. 

It is Mr. Thomas Hughes who asks in “ Tom Brown at Oxford,” 
“ Which is the t»ue — ay, and the brave — man, he who trembles before 
a woman or he before wliom a woman trembles ?” There are men wlio 
could have fouud it no difiBcult matter to flatly decline to serve even 
as temporary escoit to a woman so evidently bent on mischief, — who 
could have rebuked then and there the assumption of intimacy and 
proprietorship which if uncliallenged might mean disaster. Brewster 
did neither. She read him well enough to see that, though he was too 
indignant to permit himself to speak, he was also too much of a 
gentleman to snub her. Bravely, therefore, she bore her part, keeping 
up ail animated flow of meaningless words until fairly out of the hop- 
room, then promptly shifting to that feminine coigne of vantage 
wherein lies woman’s greatest strength, — a gush of silent tears. She 
knew too much to add reproaches, accusations, angry words : that 
would have given him something to answer, something to overthrow. 
It is only when a woman weeps, silently, desolately, showing no anger, 
making no charge, that she has man at her mercy. Utterly false as 
was the position in which she had placed Brewster before the garrison 
world at this moment, he actually did not know but that he might be 
blamable for all, — that he might be much less sinned against than 
sinning. He was no fool, only so much of one as the strongest of his 
kind sometimes become in the hands of the softer sex. Samson had 
his Delilah; Hercules, Omphale; Belisarius, poor devil, had both 
Antonia and Theodora. 

It was bad enough to have her shrink to the opposite side of the 
carriage the instant he had assisted her in and there give way to 
apparently uncontrollable weeping ; it was bad enough to have to 
stand there for a moment or two until the lady’s long-suffering spouse 


48 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


should be hunted up (he had been having a cigar with one or two of 
the elders in the sanctity of the little smoking-room) ; but what made 
matters simply intolerable was that just at the foot of the stairs, under 
the broad gallery, just where the lantern on the big pillar would shine 
full upon himself and his lachrymose partner, stood Major Berrien in 
earnest conversation with Captain Rolfe, and both looked up, glanced 
quickly but searchingly at him and at her, raised their forage-caps in 
silent salutation, and turned away. Poor Curly ! As in duty bound, 
he leaned into the carriage, not too ardently begging the weeping dame 
to say what had so distressed her, but she would not reply. Possibly 
she thought he might yet be induced to clamber in after her and there 
in the dark interior tenderly beseech her to speak; but he was all eager- 
ness to hasten back to the hop-room. If he could but have speech 
with Mrs. Berrien a moment, he might make her understand the situ- 
ation : she had always been cordial and sympathetic. But it was three 
or four minutes, perhaps, before Knowles came, thanked him for his 
attention to his wife, stepped in, and — how her tears were explained 
to her liege lord nobody knows. Somebody who knew her, however, 
was mean enough to suggest that they were of the theatrical and con- 
trollable order, and, as Randolph expressed it, ‘^she braced up and 
grinned as soon as Curly was left behind. 

The instant the carriage rolled away, Brewster turned and sped up 
the stairs. At the very top he met the colonel coming hastily down, a 
brown telegraph envelope in his hand, the soldier operator, with a look 
of repressed excitement on his face, close at his heels. 

Come with me, Brewster,’^ said Farquhar, in preoccupied but 
positive manner. — Morgan, find the adjutant and quartermaster, and 
say that I wish to see them at the office.^^ 

1^1 get my cap and follow you at once, sir,’’ answered Brewster, 
and hastened into the dressing-room. There he met Hazlett and 
Thorpe just coming out, throwing their cavalry capes over their 
shoulders, silent and preoccupied like their chief. Seizing his cap, 
Brewster paused one longing instant for a glance into the hop-room. 
Again the floor was thronged. To the merriest of music — Toujours 
Galant” — the younger dancers were fairly romping in the half-galop, 
half-polka step the joyous tune inspires, and in their midst, not romp- 
ing, but dancing with a slower, almost languid grace, Winifred Berrien 
appeared to his troubled gaze, her slender waist half encircled by Ran- 
dolph’s arm, her dark eyes downcast, her color and animation gone. 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


49 


Come, Brewster,” called Hazlett from the door-way, Farquhar 
wants ns at once, and does not want anybody else to know.” 

WhaFs up?” 

Yoif 11 know in a moment. The colonel doesn^t want it mentioned 
here.” 

At the foot of the stairs under the glare of the same big lamp, 
Farquhar, with Berrien and Rolfe, stood waiting. Glancing impa- 
tiently up as though to make sure of his men, Farquhar took Berrien 
by the arm and silently led the way, Bolfe and Hazlett, Thorpe and 
Brewster, falling in behind. It was but a few steps to the office. 

‘^Pull down the shades, orderly ; and one lamp will be enough. 
TliatMl do. Close the door, and remain outside,” said Farquhar, as he 
threw off his cape, then silently waited until the sleepy trumpeter had 
carried out his orders and vanished. By this time, too, Warren and 
Drake, the adjutant and the quartermaster, had come bustling in, and, 
noting the silence of those already on the ground, simply removed 
their caps and waited the colonel’s pleasure. For an instant Farquhar 
stood tapping the lid of the desk with the butt of his pencil and 
studying the long despatch which he held in his hand. Then he 
looked up. 

‘^Gentlemen, we are ordered to the field; one battalion to go at 
once, the other to follow in ten hours, — just as soon as cars can be 
provided. — Berrien, you will lead off.” 

For a moment not a word from anybody ; then the major spoke : 

^‘How much time have we, sir?” 

I cannot tell. You load up the moment the railway-company 
can get a train here. They have plenty of engines and cars at the 
junction, and ought to be able to furnish what we need by daybreak. 
Meantime, you will have to rouse your men, pack up everything that 
is not to be taken, cook three days’ rations, and be ready to get the 
horses aboard. Go at it as quietly as possible. I want nobody at the 
hop to know of the orders. Let the dance go on. Your men must 
take all their blankets and the heaviest clothing they have. No one 
knows what may be in store for us either in furs or fighting.” 

Again dead silence, broken only by the rapid clicking of the tele- 
graph instrument in the adjoining room and the soft, melodious strains 
borne on the wings of the whispering night wind. Another waltz, 
and one which she had promised him he should have the latter half of, 
thought Brewster. Even now he listened yearningly to recognize the 

4 


60 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


strain. Ay, he might have known it ! her favorite of all, — Love’s 
Dream-land.” 

But the colonel was speaking again : “ Of course you will do well 
to weed out any sick or iuefPectives you may have. It is going to be a 
bitter campaign, and after our summer and fall under Southern suns 
will be all the tougher. Holden will go with your command, Berrien, 
and I have sent for him. Here are your four troop commanders : so 
you may as well give your instructions at once and let them get to 
work.” 

You have heard the colonel’s orders, gentlemen : I do not know 
of anything I have to add. Start out your first sergeants and the 
cooks at once, and let the men pack without unnecessary noise. I will 
give all further details as soon as Colonel Farquhar and I have had a 
few moments’ conference.” 

Again the telegraph operator, with a despatch. 

I thought so,” said Farquhar. Murray, the division superin- 
tendent, was with us in the Shenandoah and at Five Forks. He wires 
that the train will be here at five o’clock at the latest, — two engines, 
twenty freight- or cattle-cars, two baggage-cars, four passenger day- 
cars, and a Pullman. It is eleven now. If anything is wanted you’ll 
find me here.” 

Back again into the chill night air, under the shining, starry vault, 
Berrien and his four troop leaders paused for a moment on the 
gravel walk. 

Hazlett, I suppose you will need to see Mrs. Hazlett home, and 
you, Thorpe. Better go and rouse your sergeants first, then come 
back to the hop-room ; but, mind you, not a word there. Rolfe, you 
and Brewster are among the blessed to-night: you have no wives to 
break the news to. I will give your subalterns the tip to report to 
you just as soon as we break up.” 

Three hands went to the cap-visor in salute, three officers turned 
away. Warren, the adjutant, came hurrying out: 

Oh, major. Colonel Farquhar begs that you will step in a mo- 
ment.” 

You had something to say, Brewster?” asked the major, coldly. 

Yes, sir ; I — I hope to hurry back in time to escort Miss Ber- 
rien home.” 

No, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll attend to that. You have other 
matters to occupy you.” And if ever a father’s tone signified that dis- 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


51 


missal was intended, and that further attentions were forbidden, Ber- 
rien’s did as he abruptly turned, leaving Brewster stunned and silent 
at the edge of the parade. 

In ten minutes lights were dancing like will-o’-the- wisps about 
the gallery of the men’s quarters. Quick, bounding footsteps could be 
heard, and the low, brief orders of the sergeants as they went flitting 
from door to door. Then half-suppressed exclamations, an occasional 
smothered yell of excitement or delight from some enthusiastic Paddy, 
every ready tor a frolic or a fight. Then a gradually swelling 
murmur of voices, the rapid scurry of booted feet, a clattering up and 
down the stairways, the slamming and banging of barrack doors, the 
dragging forth of heavy chests and boxes, the clank of a dropped 
sabre, and then people at the hoi)-room, strolling out on the broad 
veranda for fresh air or flirtation, became aware of the unusual illu- 
mination over across the parade, and listening heard the sounds of 
bustle and preparation. And then lights began to pop up among the 
windows of the second battalion, where the news had rapidly spread, 
and where dozens of troopers tumbled out of their blankets and into 
their boots forthwith and went charging en masse upon their own ser- 
geants to know what it meant that them fellers in the first battalion 
had had orders to be up and getting and none had come for us.” In 
less time than it takes to tell it, the tidings spread from porch to hall 
that something was up,” and other people, men and women, old 
officers and young, matrons and maids, quit their places in the Lancers 
and came streaming forth upon the gallery. What’s the matter?” — 
‘^Is it fire? I heard no alarm?” — “The trumpets haven’t sounded.” 
— “See! there’s the orderly trumpeter going across parade now, run- 
ning to the office.” — “ Why, the office is lighted, too.” — “ Where’s 
Warren ?” — “ What does it mean ?” These and dozens of other verbal 
conjectures and suggestions flew from lip to lip. Men excused themselves 
to their fair partners, seized their caps, scurried away down the steps, 
and sped over towards the lights at head-quarters. A dozen or more 
suddenly disappeared in this way, and then it was found that the colo- 
nel and Berrien and Hazlett and Thorpe and Brewster, too, were all 
missing. And then Mrs. Thorpe’s voice was heard wailing out upon 
the night air : 

“ Oh, Mrs. Berrien ! Mrs. Berrien I I know what it means. I saw 
the telegraph operator coming up the steps. It’s orders, — orders for 
the field.” 


52 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


And then indeed 


There was hurrying to and fro, 

And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress. 

And cheeks all pale which but an hour ago 
Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness. 

And the dance was forgotten, and the musicians, astonished, found the 
lighted hall rapidly emptying of the revellers, and women pressed, 
pallid and tearful, into the dressing-room, gathering up their wraps 
with hasty hand and hurrying forth to take the arm of husband or 
lover, as though claiming that right to the very last. And then in 
some way the word went round, “ Only one battalion goes, — only Ber- 
rien^s and those whose lords were attached to the other plucked up 
heart and spirit for a moment, and in the midst of it all, pale but tear- 
less, Mrs. Berrien stood waiting patiently for Dick’s return, and by 
her side, even paler, but as brave and tearless and patient, Winifred 
clung to her mother’s arm and would take no other. Bidgeway, who 
had scampered over to the office among the dozen departed, came pant- 
ing back up the stairway. 

Is it true ?” asked Mrs. Berrien. 

^‘Yes; the first battalion goes at daybreak. The major says he 
will be over in a few moments.” 

‘^Mrs. Berrien, permit me to escort you home,” said Major Kenyon, 
hastening after Ridgeway up the stair. I have just seen Berrien : 
he has to go to the barracks a few minutes.” 

‘‘Miss Winifred, may I have the pleasure? Mr. Brewster is, of 
course, needed with his troop, and mine does not go,” said Ridgeway, 
proffering his arm. The girl hesitated one moment, half clinging to 
her mother’s side, and casting one swift, appealing glance into her face. 

“ Yes, daughter, we’ll go home at once,” was the low-toned answer 
as Mrs. Berrien took old Kenyon’s arm, and with bowed head moved 
towards the stairs, her escort eagerly, volubly explaining to her that 
he felt sure the object of the sudden move was merely to overawe the 
Indians by a display of force. “It is exactly what was done here 
with such success a few years ago, Mrs. Berrien. The Cheyennes 
were wild for an outbreak, and Sheridan simply called in troops from 
everywhere, and when the Indians saw the great array of cavalry and 
infantry they caved at once. Never had to fire a shot, madam. And 
that’s the proper way to handle this matter. That’s what this means. 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


53 


The Sioux will be so disheartened they won’t dare resist even if orders 
are given to disarm them. — God forgive me the lie!” he muttered 
under his breath. — ‘^Of course it’s exasperating to think of the 
Twelfth being sent so fur away at such a time, but better now, believe 
me, than later after those misguided wretches had had a chance to jump.” 

But Mrs. Berrien had lived, heaven only knows how, through many 
a similar experience. She had seen time and again her husband’s 
command hurried forth on the trail or across the path of savage foe. 
Never yet had they returned unscathed, never yet without serious loss 
of officers and men. She could only bow her head the lower while 
her lips moved in silent prayer. Just as they reached the gate a tall 
form came springing after them through the darkness, and Brewster’s 
voice was heard : 

‘‘ I hurried back to the hop-room. Miss Winifred, only to find you 
gone. I had expected to escort you home. You have heard the 
news? You know our orders have come ?” He glared at Ridgeway, 
as much as to say, “ Leave, man ; you are one too many, as you ought 
to see.” But the junior lieutenant stoutly held his ground, nor did 
Winifred withdraw her hand from his arm. 

I have heard ; yes, it seems very sudden,” was all she could or 
would say, and the dark eyes were shrouded from his longing gaze. 

We’ll be off by daybreak, I fear. I cannot hope to see you 
again before we have to go,” he went on, desperately. 

Won’t you come in, Mr. Brewster ?” called Mrs. Berrien from 
the steps. You and Mr. Ridgeway can spare a moment, can you 
not? — Oh, Dick, here you are!” she cried, as with quick, energetic 
step the major sprang across the road and appeared under the dim 
light of the garrison lamp, and back to the gate she sped to meet him 
and to twine her arm in his. 

^‘I’ll say good -night, ladies,” said Kenyon. ‘^I’ll call in in the 
morning to see if I can be of any service. Now I must trot over and 
help Holden to pack.” And, unrestrained, he went. 

Brewster, Ridgeway, I won’t ask you in now. You have much 
to attend to, and but little time. — Run in, Winifred,” said the major. 
— ^^I’ll be with you at the barracks in a few moments, gentlemen.” 

Slowly but obediently Winifred stepped forward. 

“Good-night, Mr. Ridgeway,” she murmured, holding out her 
little hand. “Thank you very much.” 

Berrien stood impatiently at the gate, as though to see her safely 


54 


A SOLDIER^S SECRET. 


through. With trembling lips Brewster spoke as he sprang to her 
side. 

“ Good-by. Don’t forget,” was all he could murmur, as he seized 
her hand, clinging to it one miserable moment with botli his own. 

“ Good-by,” she said, in low, tremulous tone, but withdrawing her 
hand, withholding her glance. The major threw his arm about her 
and almost thrust her through the gate. 

It is good-night only, not good-by, Mr. Brewster,” said Mrs. 
Berrien, kindly, forgetting her own misery for the moment in the con- 
templation of the woe in his face. Then they hurried within-doors, 
Winifred drooping before them, and then the door closed, and Brewster 
and Ridgeway stood there confronting each other under the light. For 
a moment neither spoke. 

Have you lost your crossed sabres ?” said Brewster, finally, 
noting that the handsome cap-badge of solid gold which Ridgeway 
ordinarily wore upon the front of his forage-cap was now missing. 

^^No; I took it off to pin Miss Berrien’s wrap about her throat.” 

A moment more Brewster stood, as though he w'ould ask another 
question, then abruptly turned and plunged into the darkness. 

Meantime, Major Kenyon had trudged up the row towards 
Holden’s quarters. Already the lights were beginning to gleam from 
the various houses around the big quadrangle of the parade, where a 
dozen of the cavalry officers were now busily engaged in preparation 
for the sudden move. Over at the hospital, too, the lamps were being 
lighted in the steward’s room and the dispensary. Holden’s hall door 
stood wide open. The hall itself was dark, but a lamp Avas alight in 
the sitting-room, and that door, too, was wide open. A tall form 
passed across the illumined space as Kenyon drew near. He stopped 
for a moment at the gate, listening to the sound of bustle, the whistling 
and singing of the men at the barracks. “ Hardship, hunger, priva- 
tion, suffering ahead of them, even if they don’t have hard fighting,” 
he muttered to himself. In thirty-six hours they’ll be freezing, poor 
devils, for not a man in the battalion has a winter kit; and just hear 
them laugh and sing as though the world had no joy like soldiering ! 
God guard them, — and these poor wives and sweethearts here. Why 
isn’t it my lot to go instead of Berrien’s? Who the devil would shed 
a tear for me ?” He shook himself together and tramped heavily into 
the gate and up the steps. 

Doc !” he called at the door-way. Oh, Doc !” 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


55 


No answer. The house was silent. 

“Oh, Holden! Where are you Still no reply. “Odd/’ said 
Kenyon : “ I thought I saw him in here. Who could that have 
been?” With the confidence of army intimacy he tramped through 
the sitting-room on the left of the hall, then into the dining-room 
beyond. No one there. Then across the hall again and into Holden’s 
own sleeping-room at the rear of the house. The kerosene lamp was 
burning on the dressing-table. The bed had been occupied. Evi- 
dently Holden had turned in early, only to be routed out by the orders 
of the colonel. The floor creaked somewhere overhead. Then he 
was sure he heard a quick, liglit foot-fall on the stair. “Oh, Doc! 
here I am. It’s Kenyon,” he cried. But no answer came. Once 
more returning to the hall, and thence to the sitting-room, he found 
them empty as before. The parlor door on the WTst side was 
closed. Slowly he strolled out on the front piazza, just in time to 
catch sight of a tall form in the dark circular cape striding up to the 
gate. Surelv that was Holden. Then he heard a hail ; 

“Hello, Kolfe. That you ?” 

“ Yes. You go with us, do you ?” 

“ I do. Won’t you come in ?” 

“ Not just now : I’ve got to go to my quarters a moment. I’ll be 
in by and by. We’ll have to make a night of it.” 

“ All right. Kathleen will get us some coffee after a while. 
Bring in some of the others with you.” Then the doctor came bound- 
ing up the steps. “Hello, Kenyon. You here? Well, you were 
right after all, weren’t you ? I’ve just been over to the hospital to see 
to the field-chests.” 

“Weren’t you in here just now?” asked Kenyon. 

“ I ? No ! Not for ten minutes.” 

“ Well, some one was here, — up-stairs and down both. I called 
twice and got no answer, but I saw a man and heard the steps. 
Thought it was you.” 

“Kolfe, perhaps. He was in the road just beyond our gate as I 
came back ; but I thought he had just come from his company quarters.” 

“ If it had been Kolfe he would have answered, I should think,” 
said Kenyon. “ Besides, the figure and the footsteps were those of a 
much lighter man.” 

“ Queer !” said Holden, his thoughts instantly reverting to the 
event of the week before. “Did you see him ?” 


56 


A SOLDIER^S SECRET. 


“ I saw a figure pass across the light streaming from the sitting- 
room door. Then I heard the step up-stairs while I stood in your 
room, and then very quick, light steps on the stairs, — some one coming 
down like a streak, now that I think of it.’^ 

“How long ago?’^ 

“ Not more than a minute before you got here.” 

“ By Jove, I’m going to look into this !” said Holden, quickly. 
“ Of course you’ve heard of the excitement we had here. Bring that 
candle, will you ? I’ll take the lamp.” Up the stairs they went, — up 
to the landing where Nita Guthrie had her mysterious fright and fall. 
The door of the room she occupied was open. All was darkness 
within. Holden, followed by Kenyon, entered, and they set their 
lights upon a table. The side window was shut and barred, the south 
windows as firmly closed. Everything looked neat and undisturbed, 
but cold and deserted. No sign of an intruder, for a moment, to the 
eyes of either man. Then of a sudden Holden made a spring for the 
toilet table, seized a small silver frame, and stood glaring at it. 

“ By Jove ! look here !” 

“ What’s the matter ?” asked Kenyon. 

“Don’t you see?” was the answer, as the doctor held the face of 
the frame towards him, empty and gaping. “ Nita Guthrie’s photo- 
graph was in this frame and on that table just before the hop began 
when I was up here ; and where is it now ?” 


VI. 

Pallid and wan the fi.rst faint gleam of the coming day was stealing 
slowly into the eastern skies. Far away down the broad valley the 
mist was creeping from the slow-moving, silent stream. Peace and 
slumber and solitude hovered over the wide acres where the tasselled 
corn had waved in the summer breeze and the bearded rye and bristling 
wheat had ripened and bleached under the fervid touch of the summer 
sun. In the barn-yards and sheds the cattle still crouched, drowsing 
and huddling for warmth. In the orchards and among the maples and 
beeches the bluebirds and jays and belated robins still perched among 
the autumn leaves, their heads tucked away under sheltering wings. 
Under dew-laden hedge-rows the mother bird nestled her little brown 
brood, and Bob White still dozed away the dark hour that precedes the 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


57 


dawn. All over the placid, poyjulous valley without the reservation 
lines, the wings of night were spread. All through the streets of the 
thriving county town only the tread of the watchman waked the echoes, 
only the glimmer of his lamp was seen. The waning moon, a dim, mist- 
bedraggled crescent, had peeped up over the shadowy forest down the 
eastward valley and climbed slowly towards a sheltering bank of cloud 
and there had seemed to halt and hide. Puffing and panting, a long, 
long train had wound under the wooded bluffs and was hissing at the 
station platform at the foot of the curving road that led to the broad 
plateau of the fort. And now lights were dancing and gleaming ev^ery- 
where along the train ; men in cavalry overcoats and top-boots were 
busily, rapidly, silently leading horse after horse up the wooden ramps 
or chutes and into the dark depths of the cattle-cars. Many a trooper 
stopped a moment after lashing his halter-strap to the rail and mur- 
mured a few caressing, reassuring words to his wondering charger, 
patting him on neck or shoulder, and striving to explain to him how it 
happened that he was stirred out from his warm stable at this unseemly 
hour and marched into a prison-pen on wheels behind those black, 
hissing monsters up ahead. Silence and order and discipline prevailed. 
Only when some excitable, nervous steed balked and refused to climb 
the chute, was there unusual sound. Then the sharp crack of the 
stable sergeant’s whip and a stern “ Hup there !” brought the brute to 
his senses, and he plunged along up the wooden ramp, his iron-shod 
hoofs thundering on the boards, his trooper’s arms nearly wrenched 
from their sockets. The division superintendent had been better than 
his word, for it was only four o’clock when the train came hissing in, 
and in ten minutes, in long ghostly procession, Rolfe’s men were lead- 
ing their chargers, curveting and prancing in the keen air, down the 
winding road to the valley, the quartermaster’s wagons following with 
chest and box and bale and bundles of tentage and camp equipage. In 
fifteen minutes more the word went up to send down the next troop, 
and the train pulled forward four car-lengths, so as to bring the next 
lot of horse-cars opposite the platform and chutes, while Thorpe’s hand- 
some sorrels were led wondering from the dimly-lighted gangway; and 
so, by a few minutes after five, even the officers’ chargers and the spare 
horses of the first battalion were all aboard, and somewhere across the 
stream, just as the major acknowledged the report “ All aboard and 
secure, sir,” in Hazlett’s soldierly tones, a sprightly chanticleer, whose 
ears had at last caught those muffled sounds of hoof and voice over 


58 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


under the garrison bluffs, concluded it time to challenge, and woke the 
echoes with shrill cock-a-doodle-doo, whereat there came a low chuckle 
of delight from Hazlett’s men. 

Very good, sir. Now get aboard all your baggage as quick as 
you can.’’ 

‘‘All aboard now, sir.” 

“ Tlien march up to quarters for coffee and breakfast, — the others 
are at theirs now, — and form under arms right afterwards.” 

Precious little sleep has there been this night, — no time among the 
men, no inclination among: the women. Wives and daughters who had 
devoutly thanked heaven that only the first battalion was to go were 
soon undeceived, and found that but ten hours’ respite was to be theirs. 
All the night long the note of preparation could be heard in barracks 
and in quarters. The colonel, with his adjutant and quartermaster, 
hardly left the office at all. Berrien bustled from barracks to his 
home, from there to stables. At two o’clock, finding all his own cam- 
paigning-kit in perfect readiness, and Winifred and her mother still 
huddling over the parlor fire, he noted the pallor in his daughter’s face, 
the deep trouble in her pathetic eyes, and, taking her in his arms, he 
kissed her fondly again and again. 

“ Go to your room now, little daughter,” he said, huskily : “ go, 
dear, and try to sleep. I will not leave without coming to say bye-bye, 
just as I always did.” She shivered and hid her face and clung to his 
neck, saying no word, shedding no tear. Gently he unclasped her 
hands. “Yes, my child, do as I bid you now : I want to speak with 
mother awhile.” And then reluctantly she turned, but the one brief 
look into his eyes was so full of wordless sorrow that he was for an 
instant unmanned. “My little girl ! my little Winnie! don’t look at 
your old daddy that way !” he almost sobbed, as again he threw his 
arm around her, leading her to the stairs. “ We won’t be gone long. 
We’re all coming back, dear; and we’ll have a lovely Christmas, and 
you shall have the jolliest kind of a party, pet. But be a brave little 
woman now. It — it’ll all come right.” She turned with quick con- 
vulsive sob and threw herself upon his breast, again twining her soft 
arms about his neck, her beautiful dark hair streaming in rippling, 
shimmering masses down over the creamy white wrapper. The burst 
of tears would have been a blessed relief, but it never came. A quick, 
soldierly tread was heard on the plank walk without, and then spring- 
ing up the steps. Even before the rat-tat-tat at the door she had torn 


A SOLDIEWS SECRET. 


59 


herself from his arms, and sped like startled fawn up the carpeted 
stair. 

It is Mr. Brewster,’^ said Mrs. Berrien, in low tone, quickly. 
Berrien threw open the door. Anything for a pretext to come here 
again,^^ he muttered angrily to himself, as he confronted the unwelcome 
intruder. It was Brewster. 

Major Berrien, the colonel’s compliments, and he desires you to 
know that the train will be here at four instead of five.” And Brew- 
ster’s eyes glanced but an instant into those of his superior, and then 
went wandering longingly over his shoulder. 

“I had already heard it, sir. You have everything ready?” 

I beg pardon, then, for disturbing you, major. I have just left 
the colonel, and he thought you might not have heard. Yes, sir, every- 
thing will be ready, though the rations are not yet cooked.” 

Then be ready to get your horses aboard the moment F has 
finished loading. Anything else, Mr. Brewster ?” Poor fellow, there 
was something else, — something that filled heart and soul and domi- 
nated every thought. Gazing wistfully up the stairs, his sad eyes had 
caught one glimpse of that white, fleeting form, one glimpse of the 
lovely pallid face all framed in dark, falling tresses, as, clinging to the 
balustrade, Winifred turned, unable to resist the longing to hear what 
he might have to say. 

Nothing — nothing more, I believe, sir.” And, mechanically rais- 
ing his hand in salute, poor Curly turned away, the door promptly 
closing behind him. 

Berrien came back into the parlor clenching his fists, speechless 
indignation in his face. Mrs. Berrien saw the unmistakable signs, and, 
though in her heart she felt full of sympathy for Brewster, she knew 
it best to say nothing now. 

^‘If I thought it as you said,” he hoarsely spoke at last, — “if I 
thought that fellow had been trifling with Winnie while all the time 

carrying on this Faugh ! it makes me feel as though I could 

throttle him!” And Berrien strode up and down the cosey room, 
beating one brawny fist into the palm of the other hand. 

“But, Kichard dear, why do you think there has been anything 
serious between him and this — this woman ? I think she deliberately 
assumed that manner at the hop to-night. I think she called him 
^ Carroll’ solely for Winifred’s benefit and mine. I saw how astonished 
and annoyed he was.” 


60 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


But Berrien held up a warning hand. She came down the sfairs 
weeping and he striving to soothe her. She was sobbing aloud when 
he put her in the carriage. Bolfe and I both saw and heard. Don’t 
tell me there wasn’t anything between them. Very possibly he does 
want to make up to Winifred now, but, damn him ! he shan’t. I won’t 
have her degraded by any such offer, if I have to send her and you to 
Europe to get her away from him. It is no imagination, Bess : I tell 
you I know. Why, only this morning she sent him a new picture of 
herself; and as for calling him Carroll for our benefit, that’s what she 
calls him in her letters, and I can prove it.” 

‘'How, Dick?” 

“ Bolfe saw it, — saw it this very morning.” 

“ Captain Rolfe ! Why, how came he to see her letter to him ?” 

“ Well, it was lying open on his desk : he could not help seeing.” 

“ Why, Dick, I cannot understand Captain Rolfe’s looking at or 
reading other people’s letters, and ” 

“ It was an accident, I tell you.” 

“ Ah, but it was no accident his telling of it, Dick. Nothing on 
earth should have induced him to refer to it, if, as he claims, he saw it 
by accident. I did not suppose Bolfe would do such a thing.” 

“Well, he couldn’t help himself. I dragged it out of him, I 
suppose.” 

Another step, another rap at the door, and, casting one glance aloft, 
Berrien, to his dismay, again caught sight of Winifred’s pale face 
peering over the balustrade. The child could not, would not rest. 

“ What’s wanted ?” he curtly asked, as he threw open the door. 

“ It is Sergeant Ellis, sir,” said a deep voice. “ I have come to 
beg the major to intercede for me. My troop goes with the major’s 
battalion, and I begged to be relieved and allowed to go ; but the 
quartermaster says I must stay until some sergeant can be found who is 
competent to take charge, — some one in the infantry battalion. That 
may require two or three days, sir, and I am fearful that once the com- 
mand gets away there will be no obtaining orders to follow it. Be- 
sides, sir, there is my horse.” 

“ You belong to the black troop ?” 

“ Yes, sir, and I think that if the major would but speak to Major 
Kenyon at once he could name a sergeant who would take my place 
here at the fire-house. Almost any man can do it, sir ; only there is 
no time to be lost. Major Kenyon is at the doctor’s now.” 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


61 


Dr. Holden’s ?” 

Yes, sir, and Captain Rolfe has just joined him there.” 

Have you spoken to Lieutenant Brewster ? He commands your 
troop, as you know, now that the captain’s away.” 

I have, sir, but it was at the office, and the quartermaster spoke 
up at once, so that Lieutenant Brewster could do nothing.” 

Berrien turned back into the parlor. Bess, dear, I must run over 
to Holden’s a moment. Will you not go up to Winifred ? She is not 
lying down at all.” 

Followed by the sergeant, Berrien entered Holden’s gate and gave 
a whack at the open hall door as he passed in. Rolfe’s voice was the 
first thing he heard. It was tremulous with excitement. 

If Colonel Farquhar will but give me authority to search one 
room in this post, I will guarantee that I can find that picture and 

name the thief ” He broke off short at sight of Berrien. Holden 

rose, hospitably urging the major to join them in a cup of coffee, but 
Berrien proceeded at once to business. 

Major Kenyon, a sergeant of my battalion is in charge of the 
fire-apparatus here, but is most anxious to go with us. He says it will 
be allowed if you can name one of your men — a non-commissioned 
officer — to take his place at once. You will do me a very great favor 
if you will.” 

Certainly I can,” answered Kenyon, stoutly. Is your man there? 
Call him in. Sergeant Griggs, of B company, will be just the man, 
and I know his company commander will make no objection.” 

Come in here, sergeant,” called Berrien, and, cap in hand, the 
dark-eyed, dark-haired trooper, on whose lip the moustache was again 
beginning to bristle, stood silently before them. 

‘^Are you well enough to go, my man?” spoke up Holden on the 
instant. You look very pale, if not ill.” 

I am perfectly well, doctor, and I am eager to go. I suppose 
I’m a little cold and excited.” 

Then give my compliments to the quartermaster at once and say 
Sergeant Griggs, of the infantry, will take your duty,” said Kenyon, 
quietly. 

Ellis muttered, Thank you, sir,” faced about, and hurried from 
the room. 

Was that man in the hall when I was talking and you came in ?” 
asked Rolfe, in his quick, decided way. 


62 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


I don’t know,” answered Berrien, surprised. “ I think he fol- 
lowed me up the steps and was standing at the door.” 

Why do you ask, Rolfe?” queried Holden, closely studying his 

face. 

Because, if he was, the search I spoke of would now be useless.” 


VII. 

Daylight at last, but the sun is hidden in banks of dripping mist. 
Daylight, wan and chill and comfortless, and the bleary lamps still 
smoke and flicker about the parade. Daylight, yet without one spark 
of gladness. Even the birds huddle in the shelter of the autumn 
foliage, now so crisp and brown, and not so much as a chirp is heard. 
All around the big quadrangle night-lamps are still aglow within the 
shaded windows, telling of sleepless vigil, of pallid cheeks and tear- 
dimmed eyes. Only in the barracks of the men or the lively dens of 
the bachelor subalterns do the windows blaze, uncurtained, undismayed. 
There no silently-weeping wives, no clinging, sobbing little ones, cry- 
ing ^‘because mamma cries,” yet little dreaming for what cause, no 
thought of What will come to these should I never return?” daunt 
the spirit of the soldier. There all voices are ringing with eagerness, 
even exultation, as the men brace on their woven cartridge-belts and 
toss over their brawny shoulders carbine-slings and the straps of can- 
teen and haversack, and then come streaming forth upon the galleries, 
muffled to the chin in the blue cavalry overcoats. Out on the parade 
the trumpeters are gathered under the moist folds of the flag, awaiting 
the signal to sound assembly ;” and now the band comes marching 
in through the morning mist, and the adjutant strides forth from the 
office door. Merrily, briskly the stirring peal bursts from the bells of 
the brazen trumpets. Promptly the blue overcoats leap into ranks. 
Sharply they face to the left, and the stern voices of the sergeants can be 
heard calling the rolls, — the here,” here,” of the men responding in 
animation and hilarity sometimes so marked as to call forth a frown 
of rebuke. The troop commanders and their subalterns have hastened 
to their company grounds. The major has just come forth from his 
dimly-lighted hall and is joined by the colonel at the gate, and now, 
slowly, these two are pacing out to the parade. On many of the 
verandas dim feminine forms, mantled in heavy shawl or cloak, have 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


63 


gathered in tlie gloom. Some can be seen flitting ghost-like through 
the mist, seeking comfort and sympathy in the society of a near 
neighbor equally bereaved. Brewster turns one longing glance at the 
porch of tlie major’s quarters, but no one is there. Again, quick and 
spirited as though defying the elements, the trumpets peal the adju- 
tant’s call ; the band bursts into the martial rhythm of lively quick- 
step, and then the dripping, moisture-laden morning air rings with 
the words of command, as, in full ranks, the four troops come swing- 
ing out upon the turf and all the roadway around the parade fills up 
with otlier light blue overcoats, those of troopers and footmen who 
wi-h with all their hearts it was their turn to go, that they, too, 
belonged to the first battalion. In a moment the line is formed ; the 
carbines snap into the bared left hands as arms are presented ; Berrien 
leaves the colonel’s side and takes post in front of the centre, touches 
his cap in acknowledgment of the salute, and whips out his own 
battle-worn blade. No speech-making here. Bight forward, fours 
right !” rings the order, and then, arms at right shoulder, band and 
trumpeters leading, Berrien’s men, with quick, elastic step, with swing 
and life and jauntiness in every stride, march square away across the 
j)arade, heading for the road in front of Farquhar’s quarters. The 
trumpets strike up their merry, lively peal. With one simultaneous 
crash the carbines are brought to the carry, and Berrien lowers his 
sabre in salute to the gray-haired colonel, whose eyes fill and who bares 
for the moment his handsome head as he notes the spirited bearing of 
the men. And now the head of column has reached the road and 
turns to the left; and now the trumpets cease and the full band bursts 
into martial song, and all along the row women are waving handker- 
chiefs wet with tears, even though many are sobbing as though their 
hearts would break, and little children are perched on the gallery rail- 
ings, shouting in shrill treble their good-by to papa, who turns one 
brief glance, perliaps the very last on earth, and a big lump rises in 
many a husky throat, and stern eyes are dimmed with unwonted tears, 
and God alone knows the secret thoughts that go surging through the 
soldier brain, the never-ceasing whisper of that still, small voice, 
“ What — what will be their fate if I am taken ?” God alone can hear, 
God alone can know the humility, the piteous pleading, in the muttered 
])rayer that floats to Him on high, “Oh, guard and protect them, and, 
if it be thy will, in thy good time restore the father to his helpless 
little ones.” Ah, it is one thing to go forth to fight for an imperilled 


64 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


country, for an insulted flag, to stake life and fortune and hope to 
guard the beloved ones at the fireside, and to feel that one is battling 
for them, for their honor, peace, and future prosperity. But it is a 
thing far different to be torn from loving arms and the smiles and sun- 
shine in the little faces, the prattling and kisses of baby lips, to face 
year after year a savage foe, knowing full well that, defeated, only 
death can be the soldier’s fortune, that, victorious, the only reward will 
be permission to slink back to the station whence one came. It is the 
conquered Indian who rides in triumph to the nation’s capital and 
learns how great and good a thing it is to take the war-path every 
other year. It is all well enough for the young officers, the young 
troopers, to laugh and cheer. It is the husband and father among the 
seniors, the old campaigner in the rank and file, — men who have been 
through many and many a bloody fight within some twenty years of 
national peace and prosperity, — men wdio have seen dozens, hundreds, 
of their cherished comrades slaughtered in battle with the Sioux, — 
it is they who see the other side of the picture, and ask, To wliat 
purpose ? To what end ?” Outbreak has followed outbreak, cam- 
paign has succeeded campaign, each marked by bitter losses in many 
a regiment, each swelling the list of the widowed and the fatherless, each 
terminated by the final surrender of hostile bands satiated with the 
summer’s slaughter and shrewd enough to know that they have only to 
wave the white rag of submission to be restored to public confidence 
and double rations. Step aside now, gentlemen of the array, bury your 
dead, patch up your wounds, go back to your stations, and get ready 
for another shindy in the spring. You have had your annual outing, 
the Indian only his first innings. Now comes his second. Now the 
Bureau takes hold, and away go the prominent leaders of the red 
revolt in the annual pilgrimage, the annual starring tour through the 
East, and the sentimentalists swarm to meet them, and wheresoever 
they stop hosts of our fellow-citizens throng to smile upon them, eager 
to clasp and shake the hands that, less than a month ago, were reeking 
with the blood of mutilated soldiery for whom desolate women and be- 
reaved little ones are wailing hopelessly to-day. Vse victis! Go on in 
your triumphal circuit, red brothers Rain-in-the-Face, Thunder-Bear, 
Blizzard Hawk. Rejoice in the sunshine of your prosperity ; go back 
to your new lodges and unload your chests of plunder, the free-will 
offerings of your pale-faced kindred. The war has made you rich. 
Your squaws and children revel in food and finery galore; and should 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


65 


supplies begin to slacken up a little with the coming of another spring, 
shoot your agent, carry off his wife and daughters, and start in for 
another summer of fun. As for you, weeping widow and children of 
Captain Something, — IVe forgotten liis name, — shot from ambush by 
the Sioux last fall, get back to the East as best you can, dry your tears, 
and be happy on twenty dollars a month. It’s what one must expect 
in marrying into the army. 

And now the last of the blue column has passed through the 
western gate, and a throng of comrades surges after, every man in the 
garrison, not otherwise on duty, trudging down through the mist and 
mud to see Berrien’s battalion to the waiting train. The guard springs 
to arms and falls in line, — the guard whom Brewster was to have 
relieved at eight A.M., — and again the major lowers his sabre in ac- 
knowledgment of their salute, and so, down the winding road, tramp, 
tramp, steadily, cheerily, even joyously, they go, and the broad parade 
above is silent and deserted. Women are sobbing in one another’s 
arms, and Mrs. Berrien, seated at an upper window looking out to the 
west, is stroking Winifred’s glossy, rippling tresses, — Winifred, who, 
kneeling, has buried her tear-stained face in her mother’s lap. Fainter 
and fainter the martial strains come floating up from the wooded 
valley. The band is playing another quickstep now, its prelude full 

of vim and life and spirit, and then What strange inspiration has 

possessed the leader ? Listen ! listen ! Winifred raises her head and 
looks one instant with dilated eyes into her mother’s pallid, quivering 
face ; then, covering her ears with her slender hands, burrowing again 
into her mother’s lap, she bursts into a passion of tears. Listen ! Sweet, 
soft, sad, the beautiful notes of the thrice beautiful old song are wafted 
up on the gentle breeze. God ! to how many a breaking heart, how 
many a world-worn, w’eary, yearning soul, has it not spoken ! — 

Love not, love not, ye hapless sons of clay. 

It is too much for Mrs. Berrien. Brave, self-controlled, uncomplain- 
ing as she has been through it all, this is test beyond her strength. 
Down comes the window with sudden clash, and then, drawing her 
daughter to her breast, clasping her in her loving, sheltering arms, the 
mother heart gives way, the sorrowing wife bows her head, and, rock- 
ing to and fro in wordless grief, mingles her tears with those of her 
beloved child. 


6 


66 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


Cheer upon cheer comes swelling on the morning air. Cheer fol- 
lows cheer as Berrien^s men return the soul-stirring, soldierly good-by. 
Guidons wave from the thronging platforms. Bronzed faces peer from 
every window. Hats and forage-caps are tossing on high. Men rush 
alongside the slowly-starting train for one last hand-clasp of the de- 
parting comrades. The echoes ring to the rollicking notes of their old 
charging, fighting tune. The trumpets answer from the crowded cars. 
The sun bursts through the eddying mist and streams in glorious radi- 
ance upon the scene. All here at the station throbs with soldier song 
and spirit and enthusiasm ; but above — above, where in mournful pre- 
monition one poor army wife is weeping over three little curly heads 
pillowed in her straining arms, there comes no sound of soldier triumph, 
no echo of soldier song. Sunshine and stirring music follow the 
swiftly-speeding train, but all is dark and desolate now where gladness 
reigned but a day gone by. 


VIII. 

Letters from the front! What joy and comfort they bring! — for 
every writer seems bent on convincing the anxious ones at home that 
there is no danger and little discomfort, after all. Telegrams and brief 
notes have been raining in ever since the departure of the regiment, 
but now the two battalions are reunited under Farquhar^s command ; 
they have got shaken down into a species of winter cantonment with a 
goodly number of comrade troops and troopers from the threatened 
department. The weather has not been unusually severe thus far. 
Men and horses stood the trip admirably, and nobody growled at 
stiffened fingers and red noses and benumbed feet as they rode in long 
column from the railway to the agency, and, now that fuel has been 
lugged up in abundance and fur caps and “ blizzard coats’^ are coming 
and the Indians hovering about the camps seem deeply impressed with 
the numbers and readiness of the white soldiers and all promises well, 
the letters grow longer and more frequent. 

We are doing first-rate, Bess dear/^ wrote Berrien, ^^and all are 
hopeful that with, the surrounding of the big band of hostiles in the 
Bad Biver Valley the most uncertain feature of the business is at an 
end. If they can be quietly herded in to the reservation and induced 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


67 


to give up all their arms and ponies, there will be no further trouble. 
The health and spirit of the regiment is excellent, and, while I hope 
no emergency will arise, I can bet that if there should be a shindy the 
Twelfth will give good account of itself. Farquhar keeps us on the 
alert, and there is no rusting. Gorham has joined from leave : so 
that Brewster, to his infinite disgust I doubt not, has had to fall back 
to second place. He and E-olfe are about the only gloomy spirits in 
the command, and of Brewster I see very little. Ever since the epi> 
sode of which I told you and her most significant appearance at the 
d^pot in town while we were being switched to the north-bound track 
I have not felt like having anything to do with him. How do you 
suppose she heard of our move, since she left the hop before any one 
knew of it? There were a few other ladies there, I admit, for they 
w^ere still with us when the orders came, and it had cleared by the 
time we reached the depot. She, however, seemed to hang on to him, 
and nobody else, to the very last. I am distressed at what you tell me 
about Winifred, and the more I think of it the more I am disposed to 
urge your instant acceptance of Miss Guthrie’s invitation. It will be 
the very best antidote I know of, — a few weeks in St. Louis society, — 
if she has indeed, as you fear, become interested in him. Go by all 
means ; it will do you good, — do Winifred a world of good (get her 
some new gowns, and take in all the parties and all the gayety you 
possibly can) ; and it will be a good thing for Miss Guthrie, too. 

Now, this is strictly entre nous. Holden is worried about her, 
and in course of a long talk w^e had last night he showed me a letter 
just received from Mrs. Holden. Of course she is all upset by his 
having to take the field, and wants to leave the children with her 
mother and come up here to him, but she couldn’t be in camp, and 
there isn’t a room to be had at the railway-station. The place is just 
crammed with newspaper men and quartermaster’s people. Mrs. 
Holden writes that ever since the night of that queer adventure of 
hers at the fort, Nita has been unlike herself, — strange, nervous, almost 
hysterical at times. She will permit no allusion to it, and seems 
striving to forget it all. She goes everywhere, morning, noon, and 
night, but looks haggard and ill. I gather from wdiat Holden said 
that, as you once surmised, there was an old affair which may have had 
something to do with her persistent refusal of every offer ; but what 
that could have had to do with her fright at Pawnee I cannot imagine. 
Holden agrees with me, however, that it would be a capital thing if 


68 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


you aud Winnie would pay her the visit she urges : so again I say, go 
by all means. 

“ By the way, I wish you would run over and see Mrs. Thorpe as 
often as you can. Her letters have a depressing effect on the captain. 
He tells me the only insurance he has in all the world is in the Army 
Mutual ; but three thousand dollars would hardly pay their debts 
and take care of them for a year, if anything were to happen to him. 
Don’t be alarmed by newspaper stories of the lighted skies and howl- 
ing ghost-dancers. Indians will dance all night on any provocation, 
and our fires light the skies quite as much as theirs. Sergeant Ellis, 
who volunteered to push through with despatches to Buller’s command 
somewhere on the other side of the Bad Lands, got back all right 
this morning, and says he had hardly any difficulty in working a way 
through the hostiles. That fellow, I think, is going to make a name 
for himself in this campaign. He is always ready for anything that 
turns up. 

I hear that Brewster and Ridgeway have had a row and do not 
speak. Some of the boys know what it’s all about, but won’t tell me. 
Do you know ? Now, unless you wire to the contrary, I shall address 
my next care of Hon. Warren L. Guthrie, St. Louis.” 

Then Kenyon got a letter. He was now commanding officer of the 
post, and was unremitting in his thoughtfulness and attention to the 
households of the absent officers. It was Rolfe who wrote to him, and 
Kenyon was well-nigh at his wits’ end in the endeavor to conjecture 
what it all meant : 

You remember my saying I could find that stolen picture if I 
could but have authority to search one room at the post. It is my 
conviction still that the man who goes by the name of Ellis was the 
thief. He had a lock-box at the post-office in town. No. 23, and let- 
ters have been forwarded to him here by the postmaster two of which 
were not addressed to Sergeant Ellis or to G. B. Ellis, Twelfth Cavalry, 
but to Ralph Erroll, Box 23. When he returned from detached ser- 
vice this morning the sergeant-major handed him his mail and asked 
him if those additional letters were his. He turned red, then pale, but 
said yes. Both these were from Louisville, as I happen to know ; 
both were addressed in the same hand, — that of an educated woman ; 
and there is no doubt in my mind that this Ellis, or Erroll, has a 
screw loose in his record. Brewster knows something of his past, but 
refuses to tell. It is of vital importance to me to find out who and 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


69 


what he is, for I believe him to have been guilty of a crime beside 
which the theft of that picture is as nothing. 

Now, I want you to do something for me. A man will call on 
you within a few days, presenting a letter of introduction from me. 
He is a detective from Chicago. He has certain inquiries to make at 
the post and in town before going to Louisville, and it should not be 
known that he is a detective at all. Give him every facility in your 
power. Introduce him to the postmaster as a friend of mine, if you 
prefer it, and let him occupy my quarters while at the garrison. He 
will want to see the fire-house and apparatus and all about Holden^s 
quarters. Kathleen is there in charge, and Holden has no objection, 
though he pooh-poohs the efforts I am making to get at the bottom of 
this strange business. I hope I am not asking too much of you. 

“ I saw Hearn last evening, just in from a ten days’ scout with 
Lane’s squadron over towards the Wakpa Shicha. He asked after you 
and sent cordial regards. There are two other fellows here who were 
on their honeymoon tour when their regiments were ordered to the 
field. It reconciles one to being a bachelor, almost.” 

The major put the letter down and pondered long, perplexed and 
annoyed. He had known Rolfe but a short time, and had learned to 
know him mainly through Holden. He knew him to be resolute, 
positive, even aggressive at times. He admired his soldierly qualities 
and respected his ability. But when finally he rose from his desk 
after stowing that letter away, old Kenyon expressed himself about as 
follows: ‘^That fellow needs a wife; he is too much accustomed to 
having his own way. I’ll be hanged if I’ll do any detective work for 
him or anybody else. If Holden wants his house searched, Holden 
can say so.” 

Two days later the major had the mournful pleasure of escorting 
Mrs. and Miss Berrien to the train, and as it steamed away eastward a 
man who had stepped from the day car as Kenyon placed his fair 
charges on the slee[)er came forward and handed him a note addressed 
in Rolfe’s characteristic hand. 

‘^I know who you are,” said Kenyon. You will find me at my 
office in the garrison when you get up there.” And, stepping into the 
waiting wagon, he bade the driver go ahead, leaving the detective to 
come up in the post stage. 

That evening he wrote a short letter to Eolfe, and the gentleman 
from Chicago indited a long one, — both of which would have served 


70 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


to surprise that calmly superior soldier not a little had they reached 
him in due course of mail, which, however, they did not. It was 
some time before he saw them at all, for wlien they were unloaded 
from the mail-bags at the wintry cantonment, Rolfe, with Berrien’s 
battalion, was miles away. 

Getting no reply to his missives and little encouragement at the 
post, the strange civilian suddenly departed, after three days’ apparently 
aimless stay, and the next heard of him was in the shape of a letter 
from Louisville. Could Major Kenyon procure for him, anyhow, 
anywhere, a photograph of Sergeant Ellis ? No, Major Kenyon 
couldn’t, and was very short in saying so. 

And now December was come, and the air was crisp and keen in 
the valley of the Pawnee, the sunshine radiant and sparkling ; but far 
to the north the wintry winds were howling about the flimsy cantonment 
and whirling the snow through every cranny and crack, and the long 
nights on outpost and picket were bitter cold. But, through it all, the 
various battalions of horse were sent scouting in turn around the reser- 
vation, and more and more the young w^arriors dribbled away from the 
agencies and were next heard of welcomed with acclamations by the 
savage hosts in the fastnesses of the Bad Lands, and every hour in- 
creased the prospect of sharp fighting in the near future. But all the 
letters to the anxious hearts at home were full of hope and cheer, full 
of prophecy that everything would soon be settled. The renegade 
bands were all located” and being slowly hemmed in. The Twelfth 
would eat its Christmas dinner at Pawnee after all, they hoped. And 
in St. Louis Miss Guthrie was exerting herself to see that her charm- 
ing guests were having the loveliest kind of a time. Dinners, lunch- 
eons, card-, theatre-, and dancing-parties followed in quick succession. 
The new gowns were being made as fast as famous modistes could 
evolve and construct them, and Winifred was rushed from one scene 
of gayety to another. 

Nothing could have been more charming than our welcome,” 
wrote Mrs. Berrien to her beloved Dick, “nothing more delightful 
than the round of entertainments to which we are bidden. One has 
hardly time to think. As for writing, this is the first opportunity I 
have enjoyed in three days, and we are home from the theatre but half 
an hour. Mrs. Holden comes over every day, and we exchange such 
news as we have of the dear old regiment and the dearer ones who are 
our especial property. She is what I call a genuine woman, and I like 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


71 


her more and more. I must tell you something I learned through her. 
Tile day after our arrival we were in the library, and my attention was 
attracted by a large portrait, apparently a crayon copy of‘ a photograph, 
that hung over the mantel. It was of a singularly handsome young 
man, and I knew at once he must be a Guthrie. ‘ It is my brother,^ 
said Kita, in such a sad, constrained tone, Gaken just a few weeks 
before his death six years ago.^ Of course I could ask no more, but 
Winifred and I both noted how utterly her face changed, how un- 
speakably distressed a look came into her eyes. We could see then 
why Mrs. Holden should have said she was haggard and ill; and 
yesterday Mrs. Holden told me something of his story. He was barely 
twenty-two, the idol of the family, and immensely popular in society. 
He was assistant cashier in one of the big banks here, and one day the 
sudden discovery was made that in some mysterious way quite a large 
sum was missing, money for which he was responsible, but he could 
not account for it, neither could anybody else. The matter was inves- 
tigated thoroughly. They had detectives everywhere, and absolutely 
nothing could be brought up against young Guthrie. He never 
gambled, never dissipated in any way, was a model son and brother. 
Nita was wild with indignation at his having been even suspected. 
Mr. Guthrie offered to make good the sum twice over if need be and to 
bond himself for all his wealth to establish his boy’s honor, and for 
three or four days all was excitement, and then, in the midst of it, poor 
Jack was found dead in his room, a half-empty bottle of chloral by his 
bedside. Tlie world said suicide, guilty conscience, etc., but Nita and 
others knew that he had not slept a wink since the discovery of the 
loss and was crazed with misery. They have always maintained it was 
an accidental overdose. But it nearly broke Mr. Guthrie’s heart, and 
it was three years before Nita would go into society in St. Louis again. 
They went to Europe, and stayed there ever so long. 

What makes it seem probable that he was unjustly suspected was 
that the bank dismissed its cashier. Jack’s most intimate friend, a man 
two years older than himself, and a devoted admirer of Nita’s. It 
was even supposed that she was engaged to him. He had no wealthy 
friends to stand up for him, and Jack’s death made it appear as though 
there had been guilt; and yet such a sum could not well have been 
made away with except by the knowledge or collusion of the cashier 
himself, and, though proofs were lacking, he was discharged the very 
day poor Jack was buried. No one knows what ever became of him 


72 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


afterwards, and people settled down into the belief that this Mr. Wor- 
den was the real thief. But now comes the strangest part of it all. 
The president of the bank was a widower who for two years had been 
a suitor of Nita’s, a persistent suitor despite her marked coldness and 
aversion. Four months ago rumors began to float as to the stability 
of the bank ; then came a run, a panic ; the bank had to close its 
doors; immediate investigation into its aflairs was made, and then 
came the discovery that the president had been a heavy speculator and 
had unquestionably used the funds of the bank to cover his losses. 
They found his body in the river four days afterwards, floating down 
by the old barracks where you and I had such a happy winter twenty 
years ago. People say now that it was President Percival himself all 
the time, and that he threw suspicion on young Guthrie because he 
knew the father would eagerly pay any sum to cover the loss and hide 
the shame, but Jack’s death balked the scheme. 

“Do you wonder now that Nita is sometimes overwrought and 
nervous? Poor girl ! who knows what she has suffered? Who, to see 
her in society, would dream that she had ever suffered at all ? Do yon 
su[)pose Captain Rolfe did not hear all about this when he was here on 
recruiting service? 

“Now you ask me to tell you everything about Winifred. Is she 
happy? Is she getting over her disappointment? I do not know 
just what to say. She is always bright and apparently joyous in 
society; always grateful for every kindness and attention shown her; 
but she is rarely alone one minute from morning until late at night, 
and I cannot be sure. She never speaks of him ; and in all the whirl 
of social gayety here, and the attention she receives on every side, I 
think, I hope, she may forget her girlish sentiment. Time will show.” 

Time might have shown, but time was not accorded. Coming 
home late one night from a delightful dance, their carriage stopped 
outside the massive porte-cochere of the Guthrie homestead instead of 
driving right in. 

“ What is it, James?” asked Miss Guthrie. 

“Another carriage here, miss. I think it is Mrs. Holden just 
getting out.” 

“ Jennie here ! Why, how odd ! She went home half an hour 
before we started.” 

It was Jennie, with a grave, anxious face, at sight of which Mrs. ' 
Berrien fairly sprang from the carriage. 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 73 

‘‘You have ill news, Mrs. Holden. What is it? Tell me at 
OKoe.’’ 

“ This has just come from my husband,’^ was the trembling answer 
as she held forth a telegram : “ Major Berrien’s wound serious, but not 
fatal. Mrs. Berrien must not be alarmed. Do not believe sensational 
newspaper reports of disaster. Wounded doing well.” 


IX. 

Pursuant to his orders. Major Berrien with his battalion of the 
Twelfth had been scouting the open country that lay to the northeast- 
ward of the cantonment. So alarming had the situation become, so 
significant if not actually defiant was the manner of the Indians whose 
lodges were pitched all over the prairie around the agency, that the 
commanding general had caused in trench ments to be thrown up on 
every ridge overlooking that threatened settlement. Additional troops, 
including a strong force of infantry and detachments of light artillery, 
had been sent to the scene. Hotchkiss and field guns were placed in 
position commanding the Indian camp, and night and day the earth- 
works were heavily manned and sentries and outposts guarded every 
approach. Meantime, the main body of the hostiles was still ghost- 
dancing and howling through the wintry night far over to the north 
among the breaks and chasms of the Bad Lands, so strong in numbers 
and so secure from assault within the lines of their natural fortress as 
to laugh to scorn all premonition of disaster. Runners had gone to 
every tribe urging concerted action and united revolt. Every day 
brought new accessions, and all that was needed to enable them to bid 
defiance to the encircling force was the arrival of the great bands that 
had broken away from the reservations along the Missouri, followers 
and would-be avengers of the old chieftain Sitting Bull, who had died 
in harness, a rebel to the last. Brul6 and Ogallalla, Uncpapa and 
Minneconjou, here were the warriors, reinforced by many a new-grown 
son, who had fought the white soldiers summer after summer, time and 
again, in the bloody days of the decade past, — the Bruits especially, 
once restrained by the wisdom of old Sintogaliska, now ripe for any 
deviltry and well-nigh unanimous for war to the knife. 

Without noteworthy incident, Berrien’s command had circled around 
to the east of the sacred lines of the reservation, had spent a day or 


74 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET, 


two exploring the breaks and ravines of a dozen little streams flowing 
into the Wakpa Washtay, had located trail after trail of travois-, 
pony-, and lodge-pole-tracks, had scoured the wide valley of the main 
stream, but without sight of a single warrior, much less a war-party. 
The still smoking ruins of two ranches told, however, of recent visi- 
tation, and the hoof-marks of cattle mingling with the pony-tracks 
pointed unerringly whither the spoil had been driven. Meantime, 
while nothing could be seen of the wily red man, every hour gave new 
proof that their own movements were closely observed. Signal-smokes 
went puffing skyward on almost every side, and the night sentries 
declared that twice just before dawn of two successive mornings they 
had dimly seen shadowy horsemen darting over the neighboring ridges 
and had heard the thud of nimble hoofs. Even in the faded gray of 
the bunch-grass, even on the hard, frozen ground, experienced eyes 
could find corroboration of the story. Daring Indian scouts were ever 
on their flanks and front and rear, making no overt move against them, 
but keeping the hostile camp fully informed of everything that was 
being done and watching restlessly for opportunity to cut off every 
straying charger, to cut down every straggling man. Knowing all 
this full well, Berrien had given strict orders, — neither officer nor 
trooper was permitted to leave the column by day nor the bivouac by 
night ; and now, its mission accomplished, the column had started on 
return march, and up to this time no casualty had occurred. So long 
as the isolated battalion was moving towards the hostile camp, nearing 
every hour the overwhelming array of the enemy and separating itself 
farther and farther from friendly supports, no bar had been put to 
its progress. But now the Indian scouts could see that it was turning 
back, probably in the hope of regaining the cantonment unmolested. 

It was a sunshiny December afternoon ; the air was as clear as a bell, 
the clouds that obscured the eastern sky at dawn had long since drifted 
out of sight, and in all its broad expanse the pale-blue vault of the 
heavens wore not so much as a feather of vapor. Who that rode in the 
laughing, chatting, jaunty column that sparkling day could realize the 
change a few hours might effect on the silent, breezeless solitudes around 
them ? At noon the sun was so warm that many a trooper had stripped 
off his heavy overcoat and turned up the flaps of the rough fur cap. 
Except in deep ravines or couUeSj hardly any snow was to be seen. 
The dull gray surface of the rolling prairie, wave after wave, lay bask- 
ing, and the leafless branches of the cottonwoods overhanging the 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


75 


frozen pools were glistening, sparkling, in the life-giving rays. The 
advance-guard, after breaking the ice and treating their horses to a 
mouthful of water at the stream, had moved on at brisk trot, and now 
the stalwart riders were spreading out in extended order as they breasted 
the slope. Out to the west, full five hundred yards, the wary flankers 
could be seen, some crossing the stream farther down the valley, while 
other comrades peered over the barren ridge behind, that no sneaking 
foe might crawl up unobserved and send a long-range bullet from its 
shelter down into the swarm of troopers at the ford. So, too, the 
flankers to the east and the sturdy little knot of rear-guardsmen just 
popping up over the divide so recently crossed, all told of ceaseless 
vigilance on every side. Berrien has not ridden the Sioux trail a score 
of years for nothing. He takes no chances where the security of his 
command is concerned, and has small opinion of the leader who sub- 
jects them to needless risk. 

And now one after another the four troops ride into close column 
on the northward bank; the men dismount, unsaddle, and presently, 
with side-lines in hand, each trooper leading his faithful steed, the 
four herds are guided to the separate grazing-grounds already chosen 
and “ pre-empted’’ by wide-awake subalterns or sergeants. There the 
side-lines are carefully adjusted, the bridles slipped off, three or four 
men remain in saddle as herd-guard, and the horses are left to graze. 
Rich with nutriment is that crisp, dry bunch-grass, — rich and plentiful. 
The mules of the pack-train bray with impatience to shed their loads 
and join their envied four-footed comrades; but presently they too, 
following the bell, are streaming out upon the guarded prairie, rolling 
in luxury upon the frosty earth and kicking their legs in air in genuine 
delight. From a dozen little fires among the bare-limbed cottonwoods 
the thin smoke is curling aloft, and the rattle of tin cup and plate 
and the jovial voices of the men seem to clamor for their soldier 
rations. In long rows the saddles and equipments are aligned upon 
the turf, each man’s carbine and belt at his saddle. Huge rolls of 
robes and blankets are unstrapped and spread to air, and all this time, 
while the troop-officers are looking to the comfort and security of their 
horses. Major Berrien, followed by a single orderly, is riding about 
from point to point to satisfy himself that the guards are stationed 
where best they can secure the bivouac against surprise. 

The ridge to the southwest is higher than those which limit the 
view at other points, and thither Berrien is now riding at easy lope. 


76 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


E-olfe and Hazlett, watching him for a moment, exchange an apprecia- 
tive nod as they hear from the group of soldiers at the nearest camp- 
fire some brawny son of the old sod remark, Just luck at the ould 
man now; sure it’s a smart red-skin that will ever get through the 
pickets he posts.” Not since the days of old “ Major Slowtrot,” old 
Pap” Thomas, has there been a battalion commander better loved by 
the rank and file. They know nothing will ever induce him to forget 
one precaution for their safety, and reward his care with a loyalty of 
devotion good to see. Watching him still further, Hazlett notes that 
a distant vedette has signalled, and that Berrien, slowly now, is riding 
up the slope to join him. A sergeant has some question to ask at the 
moment, and when Hazlett again looks out to the southwest, major, 
orderly, and vedette have disappeared from view around a little 
shoulder of bluff. Other vedettes can be seen at their posts on all 
sides, and a few dismounted sentries lying j)rone where, unseen them- 
selves, they can scan the country to their front. But Hazlett’s curi- 
osity is excited by the fact that two men, mere specks in the distance, 
are huddling together at the crest half a mile away to the southwest 
and evidently watching something out at their front and motioning to 
the sergeant back with the supports. Presently this trooper, too, trots 
out to join them. Berrien and his party are still out of sight from 
camp. 

“Captain, may I borrow your field-glasses?” asks Mr. Brewster, 
swinging up to the fire where Hazlett stands. “ I have lent mine to 
the sergeant of the guard.” 

“ Did you see where the major went ?” asks Hazlett by way of 
reply, as he hands the desired instrument. 

“ I last saw him at the point yonder. He rode around it with 
Sergeant Ellis and a couple of men, and that vedette must have been 
calling to him. It seems to me they’ve been gone some time : so 
Gorham says I can ride out and find out what it means.” 

“ I’d go with you, Brewster, but my horse is out at herd. Take 
the glasses with you, anyhow.” Brewster’s big black is led up at the 
moment, and the lieutenant quickly mounts and canters easily away. 

Meantime, old Berrien, who has noted the signals of the vedette 
referred to, has joined him, with the brief inquiry, “What is it, 
Scott?” 

“ Why, sir, I was posted here by the sergeant, and he had no 
sooner gone than I saw what I took to be horsemen in the valley 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


77 


several miles ont yonder to the southwest. The major can see tlie 
whole country from a butte that lies perhaps three hundred yards 
farther out beyond this ridge. But here comes the sergeant back, sir.” 

It is Ellis, cantering briskly from the advanced position Scott has 
designated, and coming to them now around the shoulder of the bluff 
a little to the right. That Ellis has seen something is evident ; his 
face shows it in an instant. 

An Indian war-party, major, perhaps a dozen, rode from behind 
a long ridge over to the west and down into the valley of what I take 
to be a branch of the Porcupine. That butte hides a good deal of 
the valley ; but w’^e can see it from there, though.” 

^‘You three men come with me,” says Berrien, quietly. ‘‘We 
must look into this.” 

Two minutes’ lope brings them to the butte Ellis has pointed out. 
Leaving their horses with the orderly, Berrien, the sergeant, and the 
sentinel go crouching up the hither slope, throw themselves on the 
ground, and crawl to the summit. As the vedette has said, the whole 
country for miles in every direction can be seen, — a country of bold 
contours, of bare, rounded bluffs and buttes, of deep, shadowy ravines 
and gulches, — a country bare of trees save the ghostly, leafless cotton- 
woods perched by the banks of many a frozen stream. Miles and 
miles to the north and northwest the wild Indian land spreads before 
their eyes. Close at hand, tumbling, billowy, and abrupt, the ridges 
follow or intercept one another in rapid succession. The face of the 
land is cut up into tortuous “ breaks,” the deep, narrow beds of count- 
less little streams, all winding tributary to the river that flows placidly 
away to the northeast in the broad valley from which the column 
marched at dawn. Beyond that, west of north, clearly, sharply defined 
in the distance, already alternating glaring surface and ghostly shade 
under the slanting rays of the westering sun, a tumbling mass of 
jagged, fantastic shapes, a tangle of vertical cliffs and seamed and fur- 
rowed walls, a labyrinth of gorges, gullies, washed-out channels, deep 
black crevices, and broad, yawning, impassable gulfs, the storied Bad 
Lands of Dakota, shunned by all except the renegade and outlaw in 
the past, now habitable only by the Indian. Beyond these, faint and 
dim in the distance, the snow-covered, pine-crested summits in the 
Black Hills. All the rest of the surface, east, west, and south, a 
frozen sea of gray, glinting here and there in the declining rays ; and 
there off to the southwest, perhaps five miles away, lies the valley into 


78 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


which the party of dusky warriors has galloped so short a time before, 
— the valley beyond which, a long, long day’s march away, stands the 
guarded camp of comrade soldiery awaiting their return. Berrien 
studies the scene long and carefully through his glasses. Intermediate 
ridges are not many, but they are sharp and clearly defined. 

Who was it reported that the advance saw signal-smokes south 
of us at noon ?” he asks. 

^‘Corporal Waite, sir; he and two of the men saw them plainly, 
and they seemed to be answered off here.” And Ellis points miles 
away to the west. 

Berrien ponders a moment. 

“ Where away would you locate the agency, sergeant, if you were 
going to take a bee-line for it?” 

“ Out off here, sir.” 

And they crossed that line going into the valley ?” 

They certainly did, sir, and Look, major ! look yonder ! 

Another band, and from exactly the same place.” 

A little bevy of dark objects darts suddenly into view from behind 
a curtain-like divide and goes skimming over a level stretch towards 
the low lands of the valley. Berrien’s glasses seem glued to his eyes. 

Twenty of them in that party! What do they see? What’s 
their hurry ? They would not expose themselves to our view unless 
there were urgent need for haste.” 

The old road comes in from that direction, sir,” answers Ellis. 
We left it a few hours out from the cantonment, as you remember. 
Can anything have been seen along that road to give rise to signal- 
smokes ?” 

Berrien turns half over and looks keenly into the sergeant’s intelli- 
gent face. 

That road has been abandoned for weeks past. Everybody to the 
east of us has taken refuge at the railway long since. Nobody would 
be coming from that direction.” 

“ I know that, sir ; but would not any detachment coming from the 
agency to meet us, for instance, be apt to keep the road ? I understood 
we were to strike for it in the morning and follow it in.” 

Again Berrien gazes long and earnestly through the binocular. 

They are certainly heading for that road and riding at full speed. 
How many men have you at this front?” he quickly asks. 

‘‘Just eight, sir, all told, but eight more are almost within call 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


79 


over on our left flank. Yonder is the ridge where my men are posted.’’ 
And Ellis points to their left rear where lies the low crest. 

‘‘Just keep a good lookout here, sergeant. I will move them over 
this way, and then ride to the lef't flank. — My horse, orderly.” And, 
thinking deeply over the matter as he rides, Berrien spurs into a lively 
canter across an intervening dip in the prairie. “Some mischief 
ahead,” he mutters. “ They are not speeding up that valley for nothing. 
We may have to saddle and get over there.” 

Not two hundred yards has he ridden when from the point which 
lie has just quitted there comes a sudden yell of warning, followed 
almost instantly by two shots in quick succession. Then bang ! bang! 
another two, and, as he whirls about, the flrst object that meets his 
startled gaze is Ellis’s handsome black horse plunging to earth almost 
at the edge of a shallow ravine some distance out in front of the butte. 

“ My God, sir,” cries the orderly, “ Sergeant Ellis is killed !” 

Berrien’s heart bounds. There, face downward upon the sward, 
motionless, just a few feet away from the plunging, death-stricken 
horse, lies the sergeant, his carbine dropped from his nerveless hand. 
At the same instant, red, glittering, bedaubed with paint, bespangled 
with cheap finery, two young Indian braves lash their ponies into furi- 
ous gallop as they shoot up out of the shallow ravine, and, rifles in 
hand, coup-sticks advanced, race madly towards the stricken trooper in 
eager effort to secure the trophy of their prowess, the coveted scalp of 
the fallen foe. 

“Your carbine, man!” yells Berrien to his orderly. “Quick! 
shoot that leader!” And putting spurs to his snorting horse, reckless 
of the fact that he is armed only with revolver and that the ravine may 
be full of Indians, the veteran soldier drives full tilt at the charging 
braves. He thinks only of the fact that one of his men lies prostrate 
and helpless before them. They are almost upon Ellis before Berrien 
has galloped a rod. They are within twenty paces of him when, with 
a shout of delight, the major sees him whirl suddenly over, grasp his 
carbine, and, all in a second, the flame leaps from the bronzed muzzle, 
the foremost warrior drops his rifle, whirls up a clinching, convulsive 
hand, and topples headforemost out of the saddle. Scott, the vedette, 
echoes with another shot that kicks up the dust close under the second 
j)ony’s flashing heels. Its red rider veers in broad circle to the right, 
and in the twinkling of an eye the feathered war-bonnet bows low 
over the pony’s stretching neck ; Berrien’s bullet whizzes harmlessly 


80 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


above, and the major himself, borne by the rush of his half-maddened 
steed, dashes on past Ellis, now kneeling for another shot, and so goes 
crash into the midst of a little knot of yelling warriors just bounding 
up out of the gully to the rescue of their stricken comrade. ‘‘ Bess, 
my wife ; Winnie,’^ are the only words he has time or thought to mut- 
ter, for instant death seems inevitable. But all the old fighting instinct 
is uppermost, and almost in the face of the foremost Sioux his revolver 
blazes its challenge, and horse and pony meet in tremendous shock, and 
the lighter steed goes tumbling and rolling over the turf. There is 
chorus of yells, shots, soldier cheers, thundering hoofs. There is a 
vision of glittering steel in front of his eyes, of hideous, painted face, 
a sudden sense of stumble and stunning fall, a shrill whoop of triumph, 
changing instantly into the death-cry, and while his Brule antagonist 
goes crashing down, pony and all, Berrien is conscious of the superb 
leap of a big black charger over his own prostrate form, of a stentorian 
cheer from half a dozen trooper throats, and the next minute Brewster 
is kneeling by his side, raising the honored gray head in his strong 
young arms, and the voice that thundered in battle-cry but an instant 
agone is trembling now as he calls for a canteen of water and bids his 
half-stunned commander not to strive to move. 

We’ve got two of them, sir, all right,” he whispers, breathless, 
but well knowing that to be the best news he can give. “ The rest got 
away and left a bullet-hole in your shoulder.” 


X. 

Since you ask me, sir, I most distinctly oppose its being referred 
to Major Berrien. He is doing well, but the excitement might bring 
on fever — and disaster.” 

It was Dr. Holden who spoke — and very firmly spoke — to Colonel 
Farquhar four days after the little fight beyond the Porcupine. The 
colonel sat with bowed head, grave and thoughtful. Before him stood 
his surgeon, respectful but most earnest in manner. Beside him on the 
narrow field-bed sat Kolfe, with face of gloom, — three or four letters 
and a telegram in his gauntleted hand. Already the wintry twilight 
was settling down ; the wind, that had been moaning through the 
flimsy shelter for the last hour, was now whistling in gathering wrath 
and flapping every loose rag of canvas about the crowded cantonment 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


81 


Mules and horses at the picket-lines with one accord were turning tail 
to the black northwest and pawing the hard and frozen ground in ner- 
vous disquiet. The orderly who suddenly stepped within the tent was 
followed by a few whirling flakes of snow, and the first match he 
struck in the effort to light the colonel’s field-lamp was puffed out in a 
twinkling. 

Give my compliments to Mr. Brewster and ask him to step here,” 
said the colonel, after a moment’s silence ; and the orderly vanished. 

In the camp of the Twelfth, where Berrien was universally be- 
loved, three names had been on every lip since the battalion’s return, — 
those of the gallant major himself, of Lieutenant Brewster, and of 
Sergeant Ellis. Painfully shot and stunned and bruised though he 
was, Berrien’s wits had never left him. He was positive that the rush 
of war-parties towards the old road portended mischief, and, despite 
the lateness of the hour, he ordered the battalion to saddle at once and 
march to the Porcupine. From the abandoned lodge-poles found along 
the banks experienced hands had quickly lashed together a comfortable 
litter. Between these improvised shafts two of the most sedate of the 
elderly pack-mules were harnessed fore and aft. A bed of robes and 
blankets was hung midway, and, while Rolfe and Hazlett pushed 
ahead, scouting every ridge and ravine with their keen-eyed skirmish- 
ers, Gorham and Thorpe followed, escorting their beloved chief. Just 
as was anticipated, at nightfall the distant flash and report of rifles 
proved that the hostiles were busily at work in some deviltry or other, 
and, launching forward at the gallop, Rolfe’s long line swooped down 
into the valley in time to send the yelling circle of mounted warriors 
whirling away into the ravines beyond the stream, and to rescue a little 
squad of scouts and troopers, a mere handful, who had ventured forth 
with despatches for Berrien’s command and were fighting for life be- 
hind their slaughtered horses. Two were already sorely wounded, and 
all would doubtless have lost their scalps, but for the veteran major’s 
clear judgment and the sense of duty that triumphed over physical pain. 

“ The ould man’s clear grit all through,” said his invariable eulo- 
gists, the troopers. But there would have been no dear old man left 
to them, as Ellis and Scott had borne testimony, had it not been for 
Brewster’s daring charge into the midst of the red warriors. It was 
his bullet' that laid low the savage brandisher of the knife just as he 
would have gashed the brave old major’s throat; but White Wolf” 
had counted his last coup, and, stripped of his finery, lay stiffening 

6 


82 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


on the prairie, a painted corpse, awaiting funeral honors at tlie hands 
of his howling comrades. Every soldier’s heart rejoiced that it was 
Brewster who saved the major’s life, for Brewster, of all the subalterns, 
was first favorite among the rank and file. And as for Ellis, though 
he was too exclusive — too much like as though he wanted to be an 
officer” — to be generally popular among the men, he had always com- 
manded their respect, and his unexpected prowess on this occasion won 
their genuine admiration. What nerve the fellow had, to be sure, to 
lie there “ playing possum” just as though he were stone-dead and ripe 
for scalping, and so tempt his assailants out from the cover of the 
ravine, and then never stir until they were so close he simply couldnH 
miss, and so ‘‘ got in his deadly work.” Brewster and Ellis were the 
major’s avengers, the two troopers who had dealt out death to the foe, 
and who were therefore, from the soldier point of view, the men most 
entitled to the honors of the day. 

And yet, at the very monent when every other man in the regi- 
ment was lauding their names and congratulating them upon their 
deserved laurels, one captain, Rolfe, was practically demanding at the 
hands of his colonel that they should be stripped of their high estate 
and sent to the rear in arrest. 

As Dr. Holden stood there listening to the accusations and argu- 
ments brought forward by Captain Rolfe, he could not but recall the 
remarks that, in one form or other, had occasionally been brought to 
his ears at Rolfe’s expense. Even so conservative and loyal a fellow 
as Warren, the adjutant, had once summarized his character in forcible 
terms : I respect his ability,” said he, but damn his egotism. Rolfe 
in this regiment is just like the one juror who said that they could 
long ago have agreed on conviction but for the eleven blooming idiots 
who held out for acquittal.” Rolfe was a man of such intensity of 
opinion and purpose that, once having made up his own mind as to 
what somebody else ought to do, he deemed it not only a right but a 
duty to instruct the other party, no matter what that party’s rank or 
station might be; and this was practically what Rolfe had been doing 
to his colonel ever since Holden appeared upon the scene. Personally 
Holden had never met Rolfe before the arrival of the regiment at 
Pawnee, but, except a certain dogmatism of manner in discussions over 
points in tactics, politics, law, or whist, he had decidedly liked every- 
thing about him, and told the youngsters as much when he found that 
they did not. 


A SOLDIEWS SECRET. 


83 


Any man with half an eye can see that Rolfe wants to make the 
very best kind of an impression on Dr. and Mrs. Holden/’ said Kan- 
dolph. They are Miss Guihrie’s nearest friends and relatives, — at 
least the nearest whom he knows.” But Holden also liked Brewster, 
liked him well, and could not believe all that Bolfe was so strenuously 
urging upon the colonel : first, that Ellis was a thief and an outcast, 
and, second, that Brewster had known it all along and concealed it. 
The more positively and unflinchingly Bolfe asserted himself, the more 
did Holden resent it. 

Finally Rolfe burst out with, — 

Well, Colonel Farquhar, Fm acting in this manner for the honor 
of the regiment to which I’ve been attached through thick and thin 
ibr nearly a quarter of a century. I heard you were just sending for- 
ward a report highly commending these two men, and I believed it my 
duty to inform you of their character. As you seem reluctant to accept 
my statements, I request as a matter of justice to me that you refer my 
report to Major Berrien at once, and he will corroborate my opinion.” 

Then and iiot till then did Farquliar firmly and almost sternly call 
his subordinate to order, and when Rolfe had been reduced to enforced 
silence the colonel turned to Holden, and Holden had given prompt 
voice to his utter objection to their disturbing the wounded major with 
any such matter. ‘‘ But I will send for Mr. Brewster, Captain Rolfe, 
and question him in your presence,” said Farquhar. And Brewster, 
who had just been enjoying a hearty hand-shake and pleasant words 
with several officers of the Eleventh who, despite the rising gale, had 
ridden over to congratulate him, went blithely and briskly to answer 
the colonel’s summons. Warren had given him ‘Hhe tip” as to the 
letter being prepared for Farquhar’s signature. It was a joy to know 
that his name was to be sent forward with the praise of his soldierly 
and honored chief. It was Jiimost rapture to conjecture what Winifred 
Berrien would think of him when she heard that his vigilance and 
dash had saved her father’s life. 

He looked, therefore, the very picture of stalwart, soldierly, brave- 
eyed manhood as he stepped quickly into the colonel’s tent and stood 
erect before the silent trio there assembled. He came with a heart 
beating high with anticipation; but one glance at Rolfe’s sombre and 
half-averted face, the first words in Farquhar’s grave though courteous 
tones, banished all pleasurable thought and put him on his guard. 

Mr. Brewster, if I remember aright, it was you who presented 


84 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


Sergeant Ellis for enlistment when we were in the Hills. Am I 
right 

Yes, sir.” 

You knew him before his joining us, did you not?” 

A short time, sir ; yes.” 

Where had you known him, and how long?” 

At Deadwood, sir; I met him there on two occasions before he 
decided to enlist.” 

Two occasions? And how long before he came to us?” 

Perhaps a week, sir.” 

“ And you had never known him or of him before?” 

I had seen him, but I cannot say that I had ever known him.” 

‘^Mr. Brewster,” burst in Captain Rolfe at this juncture before he 
could be checked, ‘‘ do you mean to tell me you were not well acquainted 
with this so-called Ellis long before you met him in the Hills?” 

“Captain Rolfe,” was the instant answer, and the flush leaped to 
BrewstePs cheeks, an angry light to his eyes, “ I mean to tell you 
nothing whatever. I am answering Colonel Farquhar.” 

“ Permit me to conduct this matter. Captain Rolfe,” said Farquhar, 
stretching forth a restraining hand and checking the captain as he rose 
with another question on his lips. Rolfe, with almost any other man, 
might possibly have persisted. He knew Farquhar, however, and 
knew that however gentle and courteous might be his manner he could 
come down hard upon those who crossed him. So, with evident effort, 
he held his tongue, but remained standing. “ Be good enough to 
resume your seat, captain,” continued the colonel, all grave politeness; 
and Rolfe slowly and reluctantly subsided. 

“ You went to Helena once some five years ago as witness before a 
court, and the train was held up by road-agents, Mr. Brewster. Did 
you not meet this man about that time?’' 

“Yes, colonel, I saw him, but I did not know him from Adam.” 

“You conversed with him, did you not, and were at the same hotel 
at Helena with him?” 

“I did ; yes, sir ; and I was at the same hotel for thirty-six hours. 
But he was a total stranger to me. His dress was that of a gentleman, 
so was his manner, and almost everybody in our car got to talking with 
him. He was the only one who really saw the train-robbers, — it w'as 
all done so quickly, while we were in our berths; but he had got 
aboard at some station just before the thing occurred.” 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


85 


Did you not know when he enlisted that he gave an assumed 
name?’^ 

‘^No, colonel, I did not. For all I know, Ellis is his own name.’^ 

“ Yet you knew him as Ealph Erroll at Helena,” burst in Eolfe 
again. 

“Captain Eolfe,” said the colonel, with marked emphasis, “I will 
ask you to withdraw ; but, except by Dr. Holden’s permission, you will 
not speak of this matter to Major Berrien. I desire to see Mr. 
Brewster for myself. — No, Holden; you remain.” 

There was no help for it now, Eolfe had to go; and go he did, 
without a word. Then Farquhar, in his courteous tones, repeated his 
question, and received prompt reply : 

“ He certainly gave his name as Erroll in Helena and as Ellis 
when he enlisted, colonel, but which is right or that either is right I 
have no means of knowing.” 

“ Well, I am told that he gave you much of his history and that 
you lent him money in Deadwood.” 

“ I did lend him, though at the time I thought I was giving him, 
twenty dollars to pay pressing debts which he had to settle before he 
could leave there and come to us. He was destitute and starving. He 
did tell me something of his past, but w^hether it was true or not I 
cannot say. The more I see of him the more I believe it ; believe he 
was a gentleman born and bred, and that he had had hard luck, lost 
home and friends and fortune ; that he took to the West and mining ; 
that he made and lost alternately ; that now he is reaping some reward 
for his labor. What I know is that he is a tip-top soldier, of whom the 
whole regiment has reason to be proud, even though I don’t know 
what may be his own name.” 

Holden w^as listening eagerly to every word. 

“ May I ask a question, colonel ?” 

“ Certainly, doctor.” 

“ Brewster, did he ever tell you where his home was, — where his 
relatives now live?” 

“Yes, — Louisville; and I have a packet which, should he be 
killed or mortally wounded, I have promised to unwrap and express to 
the address written within. I do not now even know what it is.” 

“ Well, did he never speak of having lived in St. Louis, — having 
had friends there?” 

“ Never so much as mentioned the place, doctor.” 


86 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


For a moment there was silence, broken only by the dismal moan 
of the rising gale, the flap of canvas, and the creak of straining guy- 
ropes. Farquhar was still thinking deeply. At last he looked up. 

‘‘ Captain Rolfe has lodged with me very serious charges against 
Ellis, and bases them on the report of professional detectives. As you 
know, I gave Ellis permission to ride over to the railway on Gorham’s 
report that he had some important personal matters to look after. Has 
he returned yet ?” 

He had not up to stables, sir, but his pass does not expire until 
tattoo, and I almost hope he has not started in face of this wind. It 
looks like a blizzard coming.” 

When did Rolfe get these reports, if I may ask ?” queried 
Holden. “ I sent a telegram day before yesterday to Mrs. Holden 
that ought to have reached her that very evening, — it was to forestall 
any sensational newspaper story about the major’s wound, — and I cer- 
tainly looked for a reply of some kind yesterday.” 

“ The wires are down both east and west, I’m told, — cut by ‘friend- 
lies’ at the reservation, very probably. No despatch has passed either 
way since yesterday,” answered the colonel. “ Rolfe’s must have come 
before that. Possibly we will have later news when the sergeant rides 
back to-night. I gave him an order to get any telegrams that might 
have arrived for the regiment. What time does the train get in from 
the East, do you know, doctor?” 

“Somewhere about three, sir ; but I fear there will be no mail for 
ns for a day or two. Old hands here say it is madness to face a Dakota 
blizzard on the open praii’ie, and some of the officers think we are in 
for a gale, to say the least.” 

“ Well, Brewster,” said the colonel, kindly, “ your statement is all 
that was needed to put an end to any idea that you knew all about 
Ellis before his enlistment. Of course I shall have to look into Cap- 
tain Rolfe’s charges against him ; but say nothing about the matter for 
the present.” 

The cavalry trumpet, weird and fitful on the wings of the gale, was 
sounding first call for retreat as Brewster left the colonel’s tent and 
started down the gentle slope to join his troop. Already the snow- 
flakes were driving almost horizontally with the biting wind, and, in 
the rapidly-gathering gloom, the men came huddling from their rude 
shelters, and, bundled to the ears in their great-coats, stood stamping 
and swinging their arms, impatient to have roll-call over and done 


A SOLDIEWS SECRET. 


87 


with. The colonel came forth a moment later, and together he and 
Holden tramped over to the turf- walled structure in which their 
wounded comrade lay. The air was now so thick with snow that ob- 
jects a hundred yards distant were blurred, and those beyond entirely 
obscured. Holden softly unstrapped and raised the canvas flap and 
poked his fur-capped head within the aperture. 

Sleeping?^’ he queried of the hospital attendant. 

Sleeping like a baby, sir,^' whispered the soldier, as he tiptoed to 
the entrance. Captain Hazlett was reading to him over an hour, and 
then he just dropped away, and the captain left at first call.’’ 

“That’s capital,” said Holden, turning to the chief. “He has 
worried so over the effect the news might have on his wife that I 
couldn’t get him to sleep. Now, if we can only tide him over until 
morning, and if this beastly gale will only subside, we’ll have good 
news for him.” 

“ Well, don’t let Rolfe get near him,” said Farquhar, with a quiet 
smile. “ There isn’t a better duty officer in all the Twelfth, but some- 
body has to suppress him once in a while.” 

“ He ought to be married,” laughed Holden in reply. 

That night wlien the trumpets pealed tattoo the musicians braced 
their backs against the blustering northwest and blew as best they 
could, though Boreas strove to silence their lustiest effort, and no trooper 
on the windward side could hear a note. Over the whistle and howl 
of the gale, far out on the desolate prairie, far to the southeast, how- 
ever, the stirring, welcoming, hope-reviving strain was borne to the 
frozen ears of a solitary and well-nigh exhausted trooper, bidding him 
pluck up courage, rouse himself to renewed effort, and once more 
plunge forward into the blackness of the night. So long as he kept 
the gale in his battered face, so long would he be struggling towards 
comrades and shelter. Staggering, stumbling, sometimes crawling a 
few paces on hands and knees, sometimes turning his back to the icy 
blast and gasping for breath, sometimes burying his face in his arms, 
sometimes stretching those arms aloft to heaven and lifting up a silent 
prayer for help, for strength, he had struggled on afoot long after 
abandoning his fallen and crippled horse. No beckoning light, no 
glimmering star to guide, only the rude buffets of the cruel, pitiless 
blast, the stinging, biting thrashing of the snow, pelting him like small 
shot, to point the way, yet savagely to beat him back, — to bid him face 
and force them, yet furious to overwhelm and down. Weak and ex- 


88 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


hausted, he had well-nigh abandoned the last vestige of hope, and a 
wailing cry went moaning aloft from his cracked and frozen lips: 

God in heaven guide me ; bear me u{) ; give me strength. It is not 
for myself, but those poor women. God in mercy hear me. God in 
pity answer.’’ 

And over the wrath and fury of the mad hurricane, triumphing 
above the shriek and howl of the tempest, ringing like the voice of 
archangel through the vault of the storm-lashed skies^ God’s answer 
came. The Divine Pity, riding, indeed, upon the storm, spoke to him 
in the glad, thrilling, familiar strains of the far-away trumpets of the 
Twelfth. 


XI. 

Who’s there ?” demanded Brewster from beneath his robes and 
blankets, as late that night his name was called. 

It is I, — Holden. Tumble up, man ; I want you, quick !” 

My God, doctor, is Berrien worse?” 

No, thank heaven, he’s sound asleep. Sergeant Ellis was brought 
in by the guard half an hour ago. He fell exhausted at the lines. 
We’ve just brought him to at the hospital tent, and from what I can 
make out — he’s so weak yet — there’s something back there out on the 
prairie, an ambulance and women. I ran over for you as soon as I 
could ; for you probably know him best.” 

Be with you in a minute,” shouted Brewster, kicking otf his 
moccasins and struggling into his heavy boots. “ Lie still. Haddock : 
you’re not wanted,” he added. What time is it. Doc ?” 

Long after eleven, — near midnight, I judge. Come as quick as 
you can. I’ll go right back.” 

In five minutes, in the dim light of the hospital tent, Brewster was 
bending over Ellis’s prostrate form. Others had pulled oft‘ iiis heavy 
boots and were chafing his half-frozen feet. Holden had just adminis- 
tered another dose of brandy ; but at sight of Brewster the languid, 
half-open eyes began to gleam and the muscles of the lips to twitch. 

“ Stoop lower, Brewster : he wants to speak to you,” said Holden. 
And Brewster inclined his ear almost to the black moustache. 

Then with sudden bound he was on his feet again. 

‘‘What!” he cried. “God of heaven, man! do you mean it?” 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


89 


His face was ashen in an instant, but his eyes never quit their ques- 
tioning gaze. Ellis nodded vehemently, striving again to speak. 

“Doctor, do you hear?’^ cried Brewster, in mad dismay. “He 
says Mrs. Berrien and Winifred are in the ambulance broken down at 
Wolf Creek V And without another word he darted from the tent. 

Ten minutes more, a dozen men of the “bla^k troop’’ were bracing 
cinch-straps, buckling throat-latches, and loading blankets on their 
astonished steeds. Despite the howling of the gale, half the camp was 
up and astir, Farquhar among the first. Brewster had his own horse 
saddled and was astride before any one else was fairly dressed, and by 
this time Ellis had recovered sufficiently to speak and tell his story. 
The train from the East came in on time at three, and he was amazed 
to see Mrs. Berrien’s face. No one dreamed of her coming, for the 
wires were down. The quartermaster ran to meet her, and the sergeant 
himself hastened to give her good news of her husband. Nothing 
would answer, though, but that she must go to him at once. In vain 
did Major Sterrett plead with her, saying it took five hours to drive 
over to the cantonment by day, and he feared the evening would be 
dark and stormy. Go she would j and the quartermaster ordered out 
his own ambulance and best four-mule team, with his own driver and 
a couple of armed outriders. He gave the ladies hot tea, loaded in lots 
of blankets and robes, and they started about three-thirty, were in the 
teeth of the gale at five o’clock, in pitch darkness and off the road at 
six, and somewhere about seven the mules became unmanageable in the 
blizzard, whirled short around, and snapped off the pole. By this 
time, too, one outrider was lost, the other was frozen half to death and 
had been drinking whiskey. The driver was so stiff he could hardly 
move hand or foot, and he and Ellis had the utmost difficulty in 
cutting loose the mules. There was every prospect of their capsizing 
the wagon ; and they had to get the ladies out until the beasts were 
free. Then he found they were close to Wolf Creek, more than half- 
way, and Ellis determined to push on through to the cantonment for 
help, first replacing the ladies in the covered wagon, wrapping them in 
furs and blankets and fastening the curtains. The hurricane increased. 
He and his horse were both blinded, and at last the poor brute stumbled, 
fell into a ravine, and could barely struggle to his feet. Abandoning 
his horse, Ellis pushed on afoot, and reached camp he knew not how. 
He only remembered hearing that distant tattoo. 

Farquhar never hesitated. Brewster never asked. Holden made 


90 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


him and each of his men swallow a cup of steaming coffee, and the 
colonel took it as a matter of course that Curly was the very man 
to go. 

“ You have brandy and blankets in plenty he asked. Holden 
is loading more into the ambulance, and it follows at once. Off with 
you now.^’ 

Impatient even of this brief detention, Brewster led his little band 
of troopers off into the night. There was not a man in the Twelfth 
that wouldn’t have faced worse things than a blizzard for old Berrien’s 
sake, and as for this it was but a bagatelle. ‘‘All we’ve got to do is 
scud before the gale, fellers,” sung out Murphy, joyously, as they went 
cantering out of camp and in a second more were lost to sight and hearing. 
Then came the clatter and rattle of the hospital team, the ambulance, 
weighed down with robes and blankets and a brace of heavy troopers, 
despite which ballast the light vehicle was well-nigh whirled over by 
the force of the gale. And then Farquhar and the doctor had time to 
turn to Ellis and to think. 

“Tliey must have got my despatch Tuesday night and left by the 
earliest train,” said Holden. “ How utterly outrageous a proceeding ! 
And yet I might have known it of Mrs. Berrien.” 

Meantime there had been dismay at the quartermaster’s d^pot. 
Sterrett, noting the increasing severity of the gale at nightfall, had 
begun upbraiding himself for having allowed the ladies to persist in 
the rash attempt. He had done his best to persuade Mrs. Berrien and 
to assure her that the major was doing well ; he pointed out to her that 
they had nothing but rough shelter of log and turf and canvas at the 
camp ; that there was absolutely no place where delicately nurtured 
women could be cared for. He offered her and Miss Winifred his 
own warm, snug, though rudely-furnished room at the station, and 
ordered his chief clerk to clear out and sleep in the office. He told 
her how impossible it was for him to leave his post and his duties of 
forwarding supplies, and explained that there was no officer to properly 
escort them. But one by one she had promptly overthrown his ob- 
jections. Escort? Here was Sergeant Ellis. What better could she 
ask? As for lack of accommodation at the camp, had she not lived 
all one winter with her beloved Dick in a Kansas dug-out just the 
year after their marriage? Had she not camped with him on the 
Yellowstone? — nursed him in a deserted log hut through the mountain 
fever in the Big Horn? Were there not women, school-teachers and 


A SOLDIER^S SECRET. 


91 


the agent’s and trader’s families, there at the agency? What had she 
to fear for herself or Winifred in the midst of the Twelfth? 

“ But the regiment is ordered to march to-morrow,” said Sterrett. 

It is an open secret that the Indians have sli})ped away from the 
troops along the Cheyenne, and there’s the mischief to pay.” 

“ All the more reason for my being at my husband’s side,” promptly 
answered this army heroine. ^‘Dr. Holden will have to go, and Dick 
will be left practically alone. Winifred and I start at once, even if 
we have to walk.” 

Of course that had ended the matter. Against such determina- 
tion he was powerless. Having first done his best to detain them, he 
had then bent all his efforts to the duty of transportation, and now at 
a late hour in the evening and in the energetic and familiar language 
of the corral was blaspheming the fate that had led him to yield his 
better judgment to her importunity. Somewhere about nine o’clock 
one of the outriders had been dragged off his horse, more dead than 
alive, and told a pitiful tale of having been driven before the storm, 
and he didn’t even know how far they had got before he lost sight of 
the ambulance entirely, but was sure that one and all they had lost the 
road and now were adrift on the prairie. This was bad enough ; but 
at ten o’clock or thereabouts the corral-master came in to say that the 
riderless horse of the other man had just arrived at the gate, and, 
barely able to stagger, was led inside. 

‘‘ Pete had a flask along,” said the corral-master, sententiously. 
That’s what’s the matter with him.” 

Then Sterrett could stand it no longer. Soldiers there were none 
to send, they were all over the range at the cantonment or beyond ; 
civilians were there in plenty, dozens of refugees from the ranches, 
dozens of railroad-men and train-hands, one or two disgusted corre- 
spondents who had got the ‘Hip” as to impending movements all too 
late to catch the luckier members of that all-pervading fraternity, but 
who were quick to realize the “ scoop” they would have in transmitting 
to their respective journals full and picturesque details of the Dakota 
blizzard. It is indeed an ill wind that blows nobody good. 

Even though every one told him he could accomplish nothing 
whatever before daylight, Sterrett had a little party of stalwart fron- 
tiersmen duly equipped by midnight and ready to start the instant the 
gale should show signs of moderating. Hour after hour it shrieked 
and howled, driving the sheets of snow before it, sweeping the frozen 


92 


A SOLDIER^S SECRET. 


prairie clean as a floor, but whirling dense white clouds into every 
sheltered gulch and ravine, settling the drifts in the lee of every stack 
and shed and building at the railway-station, where, ‘‘dead’^ and 
abandoned, lay the engine of the East-bound train, the passengers 
huddling for warmth into a single car and cheerfully discussing the 
propriety of using the other for fire-wood. 

And then, before the first faint glimmer of dawn, as though spent 
with its own violence, the gale began to die. The clouds scudding 
southeastward drew aside, uncurtaining the placid heavens, where the 
stars were faintly gleaming and then twinkling out of sight. Soon in 
a blaze of glory and triumph the sun rose slowly over the far-distant 
bluffs and looked down upon the scene of wrath and desolation wrought 
by rude Boreas in the conqueror’s absence ; and just then, too, there 
hove in sight a battered little squad of troopers on spent and jaded 
steeds, and the sergeant in command rode breast-deep into the drift at 
the south entrance of Sterrett’s office and yelled over the intervening 
shield of snow the stunning question, — 

^^Did the ladies get back all right? We can’t find the ambulance 
anywhere along the Wolf.” 


XII. 

Before quitting the ambulance and its precious freight, Ellis had 
made such examination of the neighborhood as was possible in the 
thick darkness, and discovered that they were close to the edge of a 
narrow, winding ravine with abruptly-sloping banks, and it was in 
here that those sagacious mules had sought shelter from the force of 
the blast. The ambulance was standing on a veritable ridge, exposed 
to the full fury of the gale, the slope to the rapid-running Wolf just 
in front, the ravine to the right rear. Shouting to the ladies to fear 
nothing, he had no difficulty, when aided by the driver, in starting the 
wheels, and the instant the vehicle was partially turned into the track 
of the storm it was blown backwards down into the soft bed of snow 
already thick and deep. Here, under the lee of the banks, the stout 
wagon was comparatively sheltered, for the top of the canvas cover was 
just a trifle below the general level of the prairie. The mules, startled 
from their fancied security hy the rattle of wheels and canvas as the 
ambulance was run down the slope into their midst, seized with one of 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


93 


their unaccountable panics tore blindly away up the farther bank and 
out upon the storm-swept level beyond. Then in the whirling cloud 
of snow Ellis had remounted, shouted again a few encouraging words 
to the ladies within, assuring them he and his sturdy troop-horse would 
have no difficulty in reaching camp and bringing aid, urging them 
meantime to keep snugly bundled in their robes, and with Mrs. 
Berrien’s brave voice and cheery “ God speed you, sergeant !” ringing 
in his ears he rode gallantly away, forded the shallow stream at the 
mouth of the coulee., and then, facing the gale, spurred forth upon his 
perilous mission. The driver and the already somnolent Pete, with 
what was left of the contents of the depleted flask, crawled into the 
snow bed beneath the wagon-body, rolled themselves into their joint 
stock of robes and blankets, and prepared to spend a comfortable night. 
It was an old story to both. 

But, despite all the driver’s efforts on the way, the gale had forced 
them far to the right of the main road and those which paralleled it, 
the only ones at all familiar to the Twelfth, and when Brewster and 
his little squad reached the ford, along towards two o’clock in the 
morning, they sought in vain in every ravine and break, — shouted, 
fired their carbines, and sounded their trumpet, all to no purpose. Not 
an answering cry rewarded their efforts. From Ellis’s description, 
Brewster knew that the ladies were so muffled in furs that within their 
canvas shelter they could hardly suffer greatly from the cold. He was 
assured that the driver and Pete were with them, also well provided 
with robes and blankets, and that they were in no immediate danger 
of freezing ; but he could not bear the thought of the long, weary 
waiting, the dread anxiety, the darkness, isolation in all that howling 
wilderness. He could picture Winifred nestled in her mother’s arms, 
wondering, wondering, as the hours dragged by, when, if ever, human 
aid would come to their relief. At four o’clock he and his party had 
searched and scouted for half a dozen miles up and down the valley. 
Some of his best and stanchest men were giving out, and these, with 
Sergeant Brooks, he ordered to push along with the gale and seek 
news and shelter at the station. Three others he posted near the main 
crossing of the Wolf, under the lee of a little bluff, where they and 
their horses speedily stamped a hole in the snow-drifts around the hos- 
pital ambulance and huddled for warmth, — fires they could not light, 
even had there been a vestige of fuel, — and then, with three undaunted 
campaigners at his back, he had once again turned down-stream, fol- 


94 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


lowing its wanderings in the darkness and feeling for ravines he could 
not see along the southern bank. Time and again they dismounted 
and ran beside their horses to restore circulation to the numbed and 
stiffened feet and fingers. Time and again they plunged waist-deep 
into drifts, and the horses floundered to their girths in the powdery 
snow. At last Brewster noted that here and there far in the north- 
western skies the stars were beginning to peep ; the clouds were driv- 
ing away, the dawn was nigh, the hurricane abating. Broader and 
brighter the daylight stole over the storm-swept prairie, streaked here 
and there with fleecy, winding veins, and when at last the sun arose in 
its unclouded splendor the gale had died away to a mere ghost of its 
furious self, and they rubbed the icy fringe from their battered eye- 
lids and gazed long and wistfully up and down that shallow, winding 
valley, all heaped and tumbled with the driven snow, and saw not a 
sign of those whom they had rushed to save. 

Never for an instant did Brewster relax his efforts. Giving each 
of his men a pull at the flask, he selected little Murphy as about the 
most compact and certainly the lightest of the trio, and bade him make 
his way to camp and tell the colonel that up to sunrise no vestige of 
the lost ones had been found, and suggest that additional parties be 
sent out at once. 

Tell somebody to bring my field-glass,’’ he added, as Murphy was 
about to ride away. If I had dreamed we would have found noth- 
ing of the ambulance until this time, I never should have left it. 
Good luck to you now, corporal. Bide as lively as you can.” 

Murphy turned promptly away, spurred his unwilling horse through 
the ice into the black and racing waters of the Wolf, and was presently 
following a little break in the north side which led by a more gradual 
ascent to the prairie beyond. 

“ Now, men, one of you ride back towards the party at the ford ; 
poke into every ravine to your left, — they’re all full of snow : it may 
be the ambulance is so deep in the drift they could hear no sound. If 
you find anything, the faintest trace, ride up on the prairie and circle 
your liorse to the left. — Morse, you come with me.” 

Beg pardon, lieutenant, I think Murphy sees something now,” 
said Morse, indicating the farther shore with a nod of his fur-covered 
head. Whirling eagerly about, Brewster was surprised to see his 
little Irishman, a hundred yards or so away, crouching low on his 
horse’s back, still in the ravine and up to his girth in snow, and peer- 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


95 


ing cautiously eastward, bis eyes just level with the bank. Then he 
was plainly seen to signal. In an instant Brewster and his men were 
plunging into the rapid stream, crushing the ice that skirted the shores 
and bounding out upon the frozen ground beyond. Again Mur[)hy 
held forth a hand, — a warning gesture, not a beckoning one. “ Keep 
down, keep down,’^ he signalled ; and, wondering, the little party of 
troopers cautiously followed into the ravine. 

What do you see?^’ queried Brewster, eager and agitated. 

Upon my soul, sir, I wish I knew ; but it’s more like Indians 
than anything I can think of.” 

Indians? where away?” And, with a wild fear at heart, Brew- 
ster gazed over the bank in the direction indicated. 

Indians, and coming this way, sir, or I’m a tenderfoot,” muttered 
Morse, a man who had served in the Twelfth for many a year. 

What on earth can they be doing so far south of the agency ? 
You don’t think any of the hostiles have got down this way?” 

They’re all hostiles, sir, when there’s only three or four ag’in’ 
them. It don’t matter whether these are from the agency or the Bad 
Lands now, if they can catch a white man a-napping, and something 
has brought them out here.” 

]My God, man ! you don’t suppose they’ve heard of the ambu- 
lance ?” 

“They hear things quicker than we do, lieutenant. Day or night, 
calm or storm, those fellows can all around beat us in getting news.” 

“ And they are coming from the northeast, lieutenant,” chimed in 
Murphy. “ That means if they are from the villages near the agency 
they’ve circled around our people.” 

Breathless the little party watched the coming dots. The stream 
bore to the northeast after a deep bend about half a mile away, and on 
the farther bank, moving nearly parallel with the valley, about a dozen 
dark objects could be seen moving at rapid lope, the springing, tireless 
gait of the Indian pony. Ponies they were unquestionably, and each 
with his rider. Every moment brought them nearer and nearer, until, 
as they spread out in extended order across the level surface, it was 
possible to count their number, — eleven ; possible to note that every 
now and then some one of the number in front or on the flanks would 
rein in suddenly and circle round and stoop, as though examining 
tracks upon the prairie. 

“ It is not possible the ambulance can have got so far over as that,” 


96 


A SOLDIER^S SECRET. 


muttered Brewster. It is not possible that they can have heard of it 
in all that fearful storm. Why, Morse, it’s madness to think of it !” 

“ I don’t know how far the team may have been driven out that 
way, sir, but the blizzard came from the northwest, — from their left 
front; it beat across their path all the way, and mules won’t face it; 
and if it isn’t the ambulance they’re after, what can it be?” 

My God, if we only knew where it was !” groaned Brewster. 

Come what may, men, we’ve got to stand ’twixt it and those scoun- 
drels. Here, Murphy, lively now, slip back down into the valley and 
ride for all you’re worth to the ford and bring those fellows back with 
you, every man of them. Tell them to keep under the bank and ride 
like hell. Off with you now.” And this time there was no recall : 
Murphy was out of sight in a flash. 

Nearer and nearer rode the savage horsemen, now about a mile 
away. Already Morse and his silent comrade had swung their carbines 
out of their leathern buckets, thrust a cartridge in the chamber and 
ioosened others in the woven thimbles. Brewster never for an instant 
quit his gaze, but his hand had stolen back and loosed the flap of the 
holster at his hip. The movements of the Indians had puzzled him ; 
they were riding not as though moving on some point already deter- 
mined, but rather as if searching, feeling their way. Every now and 
then, too, some of their number cantered to the edge of the bank and 
seemed to scrutinize the valley. 

‘^Snow-drifts are too deep and plentiful in there, around that bend, 
sir. That’s why they’re up on the prairie.” 

Brewster’s heart seemed almost to stand still. All on a sudden the 
leaders swerved ; the blanketed riders could be seen bending low and 
over as they swung their nimble steeds in circle to the right. And 
then, then, an instant more, and, tossing the powdery snow all in a 
fleecy white cloud, there came tearing up out of the depths of some 
unseen couUe a lively herd of Indian ponies rejoicing in their un- 
wonted freedom and determined not to be herded back to slavery with- 
out a struggle. 

It was hard to repress the shout of joy that sprang to the soldiers’ 
lips. Then it wasn’t the ambulance, after all ; nothing but this frolic- 
some band of rascals that, after breaking away from the Indian boys 
the evening before, had doubtless been driven before the gale, demand- 
ing the sending forth of quite a party of the young men in search, 
even before the storm had f ully abated. For a moment the troopers 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


97 


forgot their mission as they watched the chase. Fresh and unhampered 
by weight of any kind, the scurrying band came sweeping along the 
edge ot the distant bluff, following an active, mischievous leader and 
leaving their jaded pursuers far behind. The Indian knows too much 
to chase a running horse ; he leaves him to his own devices, well know- 
ing he will more quickly stop when unpursued and can then more 
readily be headed off and turned back to the ways he should go. On 
came the nimble herd, full tilt, towards the elbow in the shallow valley 
where a broad white streak told of deep drifted snow, and there the 
leader veered to the left and south and would doubtless have stretched 
away at racing speed on that course, but for one young warrior on a 
dun-colored pony, who, with the speed of the wind, came darting out 
across the level surface beyond, gamely, skilfully heading him. Around 
went the leader once more in wide circle westward, around the south- 
ernmost edge of the fleecy drift, and then, with thunder of hoofs, the 
whole troop went bounding away to the west without a living soul to 
interpose between them and the bald, rolling heights at the far horizon, 
miles and miles away. 

Go it, pony ! I^m glad to see a redskin done for once was 
Morse’s jubilant shout. And then, sudden and sharp, Good God ! 
What’s that? Lieutenant, look!” 

Not six hundred yards away now, the little band of ponies, follow- 
ing their spirited leader, had suddenly halted at the very edge of some 
dip or sink in the prairie that lay to the southeast of the snowy rift in 
which the troopers were crouching, still hidden, they and their horses, 
from the sharp eyes of the chasing Indians. Then as suddenly, tossing 
high their scraggy manes, as though with one accord, the nimble brutes 
whirled to the south, their leader indulging in a fine flourish of heels 
as he sped away. And now Morse lay against the bank pointing 
eagerly to a couple of black objects startlingly outlined on the glistening 
white of the snow, two objects that came plunging up from the in- 
visible depths of the hollow, struggling breast-deep in the drifts, and 
at last reached the edge of the prairie, and, followed instantly by 
another couple, with their long ears erect, with outstretched neck and 
eager brayings clattered away in pursuit of the herd. Brewster knew 
them at a glance, — Sterrett’s ambulance mules. Indeed, the broken 
pole was still dangling between the two in the rear and bounding with 
them over the frozen turf. 

And that swerve, that sudden halt and turn to the south end, had 

7 


98 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


cost the band their liberty. Darting along abreast of them, but nearly 
half a mile away to the south, the warrior on the dun-colored pony 
had shot far out beyond them, and now, sweeping around in wide circle 
to his right, rode between them and the broad wastes to the west. Two 
other Indians were circling in their front, barring the way to the low 
hills to the south. Others still, straggling far out eastward, reined up 
so as not to interfere with the rounding’^ of the herd, and in a mo- 
ment or two more these three experts had turned their runaway prop- 
erty in wide sweep back into the shining track of the sun, and in very 
few minutes the matter was settled ; the ponies were sulkily trotting 
along the bank beyond the bend, headed for home and hard work 
again, with the ambulance mules braying at their heels. Here the 
younger Indians, the boys, took charge, and from the distant slopes, 
from south and east and from the prairie to the west, the others came 
cantering towards that sharp angle half a mile away and gathered in 
eager consultation about one who seemed to be their leader. 

All this, and much more, Brewster and his men were watching with 
bounding pulses, in breathless excitement, Brewster with feelings of 
mingled hope and despair. Now he knew that the ambulance must be 
somewhere near at hand, possibly up that long ravine on the south side 
that slanted in from the prairie not a hundred yards away below them. 
Surely the banks looked as though there were a good ford at that point. 
Might not that be the very one of which Ellis spoke? Now, if it 
were but possible to drop back out of the drifts in which they were 
hiding and recross the stream, they might yet creep unobserved into the 
mouth of that gully and feel their way afoot until, somewhere in the 
snow, they came upon, as he now felt sure they must, the storm-bound 
wagon with its precious contents. From their crouch ing-pl ace it was 
impossible to see across the ridge that separated them from the ravine 
referred to; but to the southeast the prairie lay before them, and the 
keenest eye could detect no sign of hollow between that which lay so 
near them and that from which those vagabond mules had emerged far 
out upon the plain. Somehow, Brewster felt certain that now at last 
he was actually within pistol-shot of the ambulance, within speaking- 
distance, almost, of the girl he so fondly loved, whose very life at this 
instant depended not only on his courage, but also on his judgment. 
One false move would ruin all. 

So long as the Indians kept up their powwow at the bend, so long 
was Winifred safe. The longer they delayed the nearer would it bring 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


99 


Murphy and the men from the main crossing three miles away up- 
stream. Then, six to six, he could laugh at the Sioux. But any one 
who knew Indians at all knew that the discovery of the mules would 
only set them to work to find the snow camp from which the animals 
had broken away. Ay, even as these things flashed through his mind, 
Brewster could see that they were signalling “ halt’^ to the herd-guard, 
and that two of the youngsters were lashing their ponies out in front 
of the band and gradually bringing it to a stand-still. Almost at the 
same moment, too, those in consultation separated, three riding swiftly 
after the herd, while the other three, slowly and cautiously, began to 
advance towards the hollow whence the mules had emerged. Evidently 
they expected to find the white man’s wagon there. 

Now is our time, men,” muttered Brewster. Quick ! off with 
your side-lines and double them about your horses’ forefeet, so that 
they can’t even hobble out of the drift. Keep them here. Take your 
lariat and hopple my horse, one of you. Throw him if need be. I’ll 
watch those beggars down-stream. Ah, I thought so,” he muttered : 
“ they’ve grabbed the mules and are examining the harness ; that will tell 
them easily enough they were cut loose after breaking the pole. Quick, 
men ! throw snow by the bushel all over your horses. Roll in it your- 
selves. Get all the white on you can ; then run down the gully as 
soon as you have your horses hidden, and watch for my signal. The 
moment I say go, bend double and scamper to the ice yonder, then 
make for the bluffs. I’ll follow instantly.” 

Meekly the two troop-horses, after having been led to a deeper 
point down the coulee, bent their heads and submitted to the lashing 
together of their forefeet, but Brewster’s Black Jack” was of differ- 
ent mould. He would not yield. 

‘‘ Over with him, Morse. No time to lose now. Lash him tight, or 
he’ll break away,” called Brewster. And poor Jack’s plunging availed 
him nothing. A moment more, with a dismal groan, he was on his 
side in the soft, cold bed, the lariat was being lashed and knotted so 
that even furious struggles could not free him, and then, to add to the 
indignity, his erstwhile friends and comrades were heaping new insult 
and a storm of snow upon him. Jack couldn’t understand it. 

Ready, men! They’re just peeping over into the hollow now. 
The moment they’re fairly in it, I give the word.” 

Twenty — thirty seconds of breathless silence. Then a quick gest- 
ure ; a quick, low-toned, but imperative Go I” 


100 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


Go they did, skimming over the pool above the rapids, leaping the 
narrow chasm where the black waters, dancing and frothing, had defied 
the ice king; ducking under the opposite bank; carbines in hand, 
revolvers at the hip, cartridges gleaming in every belt; and after them, 
leaping, yet bending low, went Brewster. Another moment, and they 
reached the mouth of the ravine, burst through the powdery drift, and 
then, Brewster leading, eyes everywhere, almost on all fours they 
scurried along half-way up the o[)posite slope, keeping well under the 
crest and just at the edge of the deep drifts to their right. Fifty — 
sixty yards they made their rapid way, and then around a little bend 
and among great heaps and mounds of glistening, shimmering white 
there rose an odd-sha})ed heap, only a trifle higher than its fellows, and 
from the midst of it there projected a dingy, wdiity-brown canvas, 
slanting to the north, and, with a cry of delight half stifled on his 
lips, Carroll Brewster leaped into the snow, floundered to his armpits 
in the powdery drift, and in a moment more had forced his way through 
the fragile white wall before him, had seized the handle of the door, 
and Winifred Berrien, starting from her mother’s clasping arms, 
blinded for an instant by the glare of radiant sunshine, barely able as 
yet to rally from the stupor-like slumber into which she had fallen, 
heard her name called in the joyous tones she knew so w^ell, and saw 
her lover, a stalwart, glowing, rejoicing young snow-god, all sparkling 
with the white crystals, all glistening in the glorious beams, gazing 
upon her with a love-light in his brave blue eyes that brought instant 
glow to her own wan and pallid cheek. And then, before she could 
even speak, before her mother could emerge from the enfolding robes, 
a shout was heard, then the sudden ring of a rifle-shot, followed 
instantly by another, the spat as of a whip-lash on the canvas top. 
Something tore its way through roof and front with a spiteful ^^zip.” 

Down ! down upon the floor ! both of you, quick !” shouted 
Brewster, as he slammed the door, and the next instant they heard the 
order in his ringing tones, half stifled in the snow, ‘‘ Fire, men ! 
Keep ’em off! Fire 1” They heard the quick bang ! bang ! of carbines 
close at hand, the prompt response of rifles distant as were the first, 
the whistle of lead through the icy air, the shrill yells of battling 
Indians, the furious gallop of bounding hoofs. Everywhere to their 
front the rapid fire increased. More yells, partly of triumph, partly 
summoning additional warriors to the spot, then the muffled beat of 
coming hoofs, and, in the midst of it all, Brewster’s stern voice, calm 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


101 


and steady : Aim well, men, but fire lively. Don’t let them get 
again so close as to liave a shot at the wagon. Watch that above all.” 
Two — three minutes the sound of battle raged about them, increasing 
at the front. A soldier voice was heard to say, “ There’s more of them 
coming, sir. You can see them down there to the east.” And Mrs. 
Berrien’s heart grew faint with fear. Winifred had buried her face 
upon her breast and closed her ears to the horrid sounds. And then, 
all on a sudden, the yells of the charging Indians seemed to grow 
fainter, then sounds of dismay arose among them, then the cries were 
drowned in the clatter of iron-shod hoofs and the chorus of soldier 
cheers. Murpliy and his little squad came whirling up the bank, and 
Mrs. Berrien’s heart poured forth in praise and thanksgiving at the 
joyous Milesian hail : 

To hell wid ’em, fellers ! Sure all B throop’s cornin’, — not two 
miles behind !” 


XIII. 

Tliere was silence and anxiety in the long range of winter camps 
about the agency. The Twelfth were gone, nobody knew just where; 
but over to the north, over towards those frowning Bad Lands,” — all 
the more wild and treacherous now that the snow had filled every rift 
and crevice, for the jagged surface was one mass of pitfalls, — other 
battalions of horse were also gone, and the vigilant watch over those 
Indians still clustering about their old haunts in the valley was re- 
doubled. The heavier guns of the field-battery commanded the smoky 
lodges, the lighter pieces were away with the cavalry. The infantry, 
muffled to their eyebrows, manned the rifle-pits and guard-line and threw 
their sheltering wings over the deserted camps. For good or for ill, 
the crisis was at hand. Whatsoever doubt had existed as to the almost 
universal hostility of the Sioux was banished by the events of the 
preceding week. The attempted ambush of Sergeant Ellis of Berrien’s 
advance-guard, the attack upon the scouts and couriers at the Porcu- 
])ine, and, lastly, the affair at the Wolf, in which Brewster a second 
time had gained distinction, all pointed unerringly to one conclusion : 
whatsoever might be their assurances to officials high in rank, to agents 
whose power would be at an end were war to ensue, to self-constituted 
framers of public opinion, every soldier on the spot knew, and well 
knew, that the Indians would be peaceable only in presence of a formi- 


102 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


dable force of blue-coats, but that nothing but ambush and massacre 
awaited the whites who ventured forth unguarded. Up to this moment, 
however, of all tliose gathered at the scene the only troops which had 
had actual collision with the Sioux were of Berrien^s battalion. 

Far away south at the Pawnee, old Kenyon had been doing his 
utmost to still the anxious fears among the families of the absent 
soldiers. There had been lively excitement when the papers arrived 
giving sensational details of Berrien’s wound and of the affair at the 
Porcupine, but it was as nothing to that which prevailed over the 
tidings of the imminent peril in which Mrs. Berrien and Winifred had 
been placed. That it was just like Mrs. Berrien to insist on joining 
her wounded husband at once was conceded by all, but opinions differed 
as to the propriety of her course in taking Winifred with her. This 
the major decided by prompt assertion that Miss Berrien doubtless 
refused to be left behind. “ And, being a very lovely blending of the 
characteristics of both her parents,” said he, it would have been 
decidedly unlike Miss Berrien to have stayed at home.” 

And then came the dread news that a great band from the north- 
east, reinforced by a reckless gang of fanatical young ghost-dancers 
from the Bad Lands, had broken away, and that all the regiments had 
gone to head them off. Far, without a fight, they could not go. The 
question was which regiment would be the first to meet them. Then 
the next night’s mail brought the next day’s papers, and the Twelfth, 
having swung loose and being absent from the neighborhood whence 
were derived the items on which correspondents based their reports 
and editors their comments, shared the usual fate of the absentee, and, 
having sustained the only casualties and inflicted the only punishments 
yet heard of about the agency, was now coming in for its share of the 
^Houjours tort” to which it was, of course, justly entitled. Kenyon 
first glared at and then exploded over a despatch which read somewhat 
as follows : 

All hope of bloodless solution of the difficulty is now at an end. 
Even the most peaceably disposed among the reservation Indians are 
furious over what they do not hesitate to term the slaughter of their 
clansmen in the three affairs that have recently occurred ; and it is an 
open secret that, at general head-quarters, the gravest annoyance is felt 
over the total overthrow of carefully-laid plans, all ciused bv the in- 
judicious conduct of certain hot-headed officers of cavalry. The friends 
of White Wolf, the principal ‘ brave’ shot by Major Berrien’s troopers, 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


103 


declare that he and those with him were friendly and only striving to 
reach the major with the news that couriers were coming, hoping 
thereby to earn something to eat, for they were cold and hungry, when 
they were fired on without warning, and, even while making signals 
of peace and friendship. White Wolf was slain. Then the Brules- 
who were with them could not be restrained, and attacked the couriers 
in revenge. As for the affair at Wolf Creek after the blizzard, there 
is unspoken denunciation among the Indians, and the ‘ damnation of 
faint praise’ in other quarters, of the conduct of a cavalry officer 
])resent. The Indians declare they had gone out only to gather up 
their ponies. The sight of the mules told them there must be an 
ambulance stalled somewhere in the drifts, and they were eagerly 
searching for it to render succor and aid, when they were fired upon 
from ambush by the lieutenant and his men, and two of their ponies 
were killed and one young Indian shot through the leg. The Indians 
declare they could easily have killed Major Berrien, but merely strove 
to defend themselves and explain, and that had they been hostile they 
could have finished the lieutenant and his little squad at the Wolf 
Greek crossing long before reinforcements came. Altogether, there is 
something so plausible in their statements that it is understood that the 
conduct both of the major and at least one of his subalterns will be 
made the subject of official investigation.” 

‘‘Well, well, well r said Kenyon. “ Thank God 7’m not serving 
a grateful nation in the heart of the Indian country. It’s bad enough 
to be shot, and worse to be lied about, and that is all the comfort there 
is in being a cavalryman, if I do say it who am nothing but a cross- 
grained old crank of a doughboy. If this is what the Twelfth is to 
get for ‘a mere affair of outposts,’ what the devil will be said of them 
if they should get into a regular pitched battle? Here, Mr. Adjutant, 
dump that pa})er in the fire, and don’t let a woman at the })ost 
know anvthint:: about it. — Know it already? How the mischief could 
they?” ^ 

“ There were half a dozen of them, sir, at Mrs. Hazlett’s reading 
another copy of that paper as I came down. And poor Mrs. Thorpe is 
crying her eyes out. She’s been utterly upset since the news came that 
the Twelfth had been sent out. Good God, sir, she’s coming in now!” 

It was indeed poor Mrs. Thorpe who entered, pallid, her eyelids 
swollen with weeping. Old Kenyon was on his feet in an instant and 
leading her to a chair. 


104 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


‘‘ My dear madam, my dear madam/’ he began, indeed you must 
not give way so. I assure you there is no cause for such dread and 
anxiety. Do strive to control yourself.” 

‘‘ I cannot ! oh, Major Kenyon, I cannot ! I have been through so 
much, such fearful scenes !” she sobbed, wringing her nervous hands, 
rocking to and fro in an agony of grief. “ Oh, it is easy for those 
who have not lived the life we had to live in the old days to counsel 
patience, calmness. I was only a child then, kneeling at my mother’s 
side when the news came in that widowed half the women in the post. 
I spent my girlhood in the regiment. How many are left of the offi- 
cers who were so good to me then ? Mother was only one of a dozen 
whose hearts were broken, — broken as, oh, God ! I feel mine is to be. 
They took my father long years ago, now they demand my husband, 
my babies’ father, my all, their all ! Oh, God ! oh, God !” 

Sobbing, rocking to and fro in her uncontrollable grief, the poor 
girl clung to Kenyon’s hand, and the old fellow’s eyes blinked and 
smarted with the tears he could not quite force back. He laid the 
other hand upon her bowed and swaying head. 

My child,” he said, brokenly, for your babies’ sake, try to bear 
up. Be your father’s daughter. I knew and loved him well, — knew 
you when you rode your first pony at the old fort up the Missouri. 
You know well I wouldn’t try to deceive you. I can’t think the 
Twelfth is to bear the brunt of this business. They don’t belong in 
that department at all. They are only borrowed from here ; and surely 
there are troops enough there, more than enough, to overawe that pes- 
tilent gang. All that is necessary will be to surround the Indians, let 
them see what a force we have, and they’ll knuckle down. Don’t cry 
so, Mrs. Thorpe; don’t cry, my child. Let me take you over home 
now. Just get the little ones around you to-night, and I’ll bring over 

some famous oranges that came to-day, and Why, I don’t believe 

the Twelfth will have to pull another trigger. Think how many other 
regiments and commands there are there.” 

I do, I do, and I pray and pray, but no comfort comes. Did you 
ever know a time when they were not in the thick of the fight? Did 
you ever hear of any time when the loss did not fall heaviest on us?” 

Don’t think of that now,” he pleaded. Don’t borrow trouble 
from either past or future. Come, let me take you home, there’s a 
good girl. I tell you if that band hasn’t surrendered they’ve scattered 
all over creation, and you can no more catch them than you can — than 


A SOLDIER S SECRET. 


105 


you can — a newspaper lie. That’s the strongest simile I can think of. 
Did you hear what they were saying about Berrien and Brewster ?” he 
queried, eager to divert her thoughts from her own misery. 

“ I did. Isn’t it cruel ? But Major Berrien has his wife and 
Winnie with him, and they’re bringing him home; but if poor George 
is shot, what can I do?” 

Do? Why, you shall go right to him, if I have to give myself 
a seven days’ leave and take you.” And so, soothing, comforting as 
best he knew how, the veteran major led her home to her wondering 
brood, to the laughing, crowing baby leaping in the nurse’s arms, de- 
lighted to see the little mother again, to the joyous children romping 
in the firelight, innocent of care or fear, and then, striving for their 
sake to still her sobs, to dry her tears, he left her to put the little ones 
to bed, to clasp their folded hands in hers as the wee, white-gowned 
girlies knelt at her side, echoing — God only knew with what piteous 
entreaty — the lisping prayer for His divine protection for the loved 
father, the devoted husband, the gallant soldier who that very day had 
fought his last fight and lay lifeless on the frozen sod. 

Over the eastward bluffs, cold and hard and gray, the morning 
light had slowly crept to the zenith. Over the sky was spread one 
limitless pall of cloud, cheerless and repellent, — a pall so dense that 
not one friendly star had peeped, not one rift of sunshine now could 
force its way. All below, bleak, frowning, and sullen, a bare and 
blasted landscape; low hills and ridges east and west, low-lying shallow 
and swale between, cheerless, treeless, shrubless, not even a veil of 
snow to hide its nakedness, to lend one pitying touch to break the dull, 
dead monotony of its wintry desolation ; sweeps and slopes rolling 
away unbroken to the frowning horizon at the west, sterner, harsher 
lines among the bluffs across the tortuous stream-bed, between whose 
ragged banks an icy, lonely, and dismal rivulet is curdling now, spread- 
ing out into frozen shallows at the flats, moaning and complaining 
around its warped and sudden bends, desolate as the surrounding deso- 
lation, deserted as the Dead Sea, its banks repellent even to such 
sharers of Dakota solitudes as the coyote and the cottonwood, shunned 
of man or beast or tree, — a stream of silence and gloom at the dawn 
of this December day, and so cheerless is its every surrounding, so 
appalling the unnatural hush, that one would never dream of life upon 
its blasted banks. 


106 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


Yet, listen ! Unseen, but dominant, the sun has risen above the 
eastern hills, and, as the light broadens even where it cannot warm, 
there floats upon the air from far away at the southwest, faint and 
clear, a cavalry trumpet call ; soft at first, then crescendo, it ceases 
suddenly in shrill high note. It thrills through and through a rare 
atmosphere unruffled by the fleeting wing of hardiest bird. Like the 
wistful call of scattered quail, it seems to say, Where are you ?’^ 
And prompt, expectant of the coming of faithful mate, listen again ! 
From the dim recesses to the north, somewhere among those bare and 
desolate slopes, the answer rises, quick, ringing, even imperative, and 
the signal reads, ‘‘ This way.’^ 

Groping through the bitter darkness of the December night, a 
cavalry column has sought and, just at the opening of this cheerless 
December day, has found its mate. The comrade battalions of the 
Twelfth are within hail. 

Forward rings the signal from the southwest. Forward with 
them, then, around that point at the low bluff to our front, and in the 
ghostly, gathering light the scene is before us, the tale is almost told. 

There, thickly dotting the prairie and covering the low ground, its 
wigwams smoke- begrimed and dingy, lies an Indian encampment; but 
even in such shelter as this the hostile horde has fared far better than 
they who through the long, freezing night have kept watch and ward 
lest again the wary chief should slip through the meshes. It has 
come at last. The big warrioFs fanatical braves have made their 
rush, Berrien’s men the tackle. Back flew the signal with the setting 
sun. Up through the night came Farquhar with the guards.” 

Here in front the four old troops we know so well have shivered 
for hours about the village. Here, alert and determined, Rolfe and 
Hazlett, Thorpe and Gorham, have clung to front, flank, and rear, 
well knowing that so soon as the colonel got the news he would not 
only speed the second battalion on its way, but, gathering any other 
forces he could find, would ride the long night through, if need were, 
to join his men. 

Stern and silent, Rolfe is standing at the bank of the stream, 
wearied enough, yet certain that there is no rest before them. On him, 
as senior, the command has devolved in the absence of the beloved 
major now being tenderly nursed and comfortably trundled homeward 
in the warm interior of a Pullman. No excitement, no cheer, attends 
the coming of the column now at steady, soldierly gait winding into 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


107 


the shallow depression. Kolfe knows that without Farqiiliar and his 
reinforcements attack upon or interference with so formidable a band 
would be worse than desperation. He knows that with Farquhar his 
own position will be only that of subordinate, and that he must obey. 
He knows how, were he supreme, a thousand troopers at his back, he 
would conduct matters now. But Farquhar is a soldier long accustomed 
both to obedience and to command; Rolfe is one to whom obedience 
comes with laggard grace, to whom command is opportunity for lavish 
vent of his imperious will. Orders or no orders, if he had the power 
he would deal death to the rabid renegades before him. Orders to 
“ bring on the Indians, but not bring on a fight,^^ to his thinking are 
orders like those which should forbid a man’s going to water until he 
had learned to swim. Orders to disarm but not molest are simply 
something to be laughed to scorn. When were the Sioux ever known 
to surrender those precious arms? Such things when reported in years 
gone by turned out to be as rusty shams as the arms turned in. Rolfe 
w^as in mood as sullen as the morn, and the signs about the now 
bustling village were not to his liking. Over among the tepees 
blanketed squaws were scurrying about, their shrill voices suppressed, 
but their black eyes flashing hatred at the silent squads of troopers, 
carbines ready in hand, watching every move within the guarded lines. 
Young women and boys were belaboring the gaunt and dejected ponies. 
Eager gestures and low exclamations called attention to the coming 
force, and in groups the warriors, shrouded to the very lips in their 
heavy robes, stood or sat in council ; but all the while, darting from 
point to point, with fierce declamatory gesture went Mephisto himself 
in the Indian “ medicine-man.” Mark ! wheresoever he goes eager 
ears are bent to hear his exhortation. 

‘‘My God! why can’t I arrest him at least? With that old 
scoundrel done for, the rest might not be so hard,” is Rolfe’s impatient 
exclamation. 

“ Simply because the attempt would lead to instant fight,” is Haz^ 
lett’s cool reply. 

“ But, man, he’s putting them up to organized resistance. He’s 
giving them some instructions now; you can see it just as well as 
I do.” 

“Who doesn’t? but ” A suggestive shrug of the shoulders 

indicates the brother captain’s opinion. “You know the old saying, 
Rolfe, ‘ Ours not to make reply.’ ” 


108 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


Wh(/s in command of those advanced men fronting that part of 
the village?’’ asks Rolfe, after a moment’s gloomy pause. 

Brewster. Don’t you see? He’s talking with Sergeant Ellis 
there now.” 

Rolfe grinds his heavy boot-heel into the frosted bunch-grass, not 
more harshly than he grinds his teeth. “ By heaven ! Hazlett, bear 
me witness to this, — for there’s no telling how things will turn out 
to-day, — if I had my way those two men would have been brought to 
book and made to explain, instead of having posts of honor here. 
Farquhar rel’used to listen to another word on the subject until we got 
home again ; then it may be too late.” 

‘‘Well-1, I can’t understand what you have against them both, — or 
either,” is Hazlett’s reply. 

“ And I can’t explain here or now ; but wait till we’re home again, 
Hazlett, if we ever get there.” 

Farther down to the left two other troop commanders have been 
watching the symptoms among the swarming lodges. 

“There’ll be the devil’s work this day, Thorpe,” says Gorham at 
last, with gloomy brow. 

And Thorpe only bows his head. 


Three hours later look upon the scene. The open prairie on the 
hither side of the village is no longer tenantless, as it was at dawn. 
Two parallel lines confront each other there. In dogged submission 
to the orders of their captors and the mandate of the big white chief 
which has been laid before them, silent, sullen, muffled to the eyes in 
dingy robe or blanket, the braves have slowly moved out from their 
lurking-places among the tepees and shuffled down the gentle slope 
until well away from the outskirts of their town, and just in front of 
a long, silent rank of dismounted troopers they squat upon the ground. 
No word is spoken by either side. Here crouch the savage leaders of 
the hostile tribe, and, in long-extended line, scores of their fiercest and 
bravest. Others still lurk among the squaws and lodges. Others peer 
with glittering, malignant eyes from under heaps of foul-smelling robes 
Qv paifieches. Those in the outing glance but furtively at the blue line 
before them. They are silent as the dead, yet the war-cry trembles on 
their lips. They wait, but wait expectant. They crouch, but it is the 
tiger’s crouch, ready for a spring. The word has been passed that all 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 109 

arms must be surrendered, and every arm is there, ready, hidden, but 
‘‘ with the lightning sleeping in it.” 

Back among those brown, dingy tepees, breathless with excitement, 
squaws are scurrying to and fro; children are being huddled away to 
the farther side. (“ Look at that. Curly,’’ mutters Warren, under his 
frozen moustache, as he passes rapidly along in rear. “ Isn’t that 
enough to show they mean mischief?”) Some of the Indian police 
and interpreters are still searching for warriors in hiding. Yet has not 
the ohl chief bowed his assent to the orders and given his directions 
that his people should comply ? Nothing must be — can be — done so 
long as the Indian makes no overt move. The dismounted men of 
two troops are in long single rank. Some of the men shiver a little, 
for cold and excitement are telling now, as in many cases overcoats 
have been thrown aside, but brave men tremble ofttimes until the first 
shot comes, and then the nervous strain is gone, for the hot blood leaps 
and tingles through the veins. Back some distance the horse-herders 
are aligned. Off to the flanks and rear comrade troops gaze silently 
on the scene. From the crest of a low bluff the black muzzle of the 
Hotchkiss gun peers from its knot of watchful batterymen. Farquhar, 
vigilant and grave, has just sent Warren with other orders. A half- 
breed Indian steps forth, as though to carry its import to the chief. 
At him the eyes of the old maniac of a medicine-man glare with 
tigerish fury. He lowers his feathered head. He crouches. 

Then, suddenly, a cat-like leap, a wild yell. Off goes every 
blanket, as though hurled by the explosion from within. In simul- 
taneous crash the flame and lead have leaped upon the trooper line, and 
now through the veiling smoke every Indian is fighting like a demon. 
Down goes many a sturdy soldier, veteran sergeant, brave-faced boy. 
The line reels with the sudden shock, but in an instant men like 
Thorpe and Brewster and Randolph leap forward among the men and 
their voices ring with the clamor of battle. Back up the slope, scurry- 
ing, stooj)ing low, firing, dropping in their tracks, the Indians are 
making for the shelter of their tepees, — for the skirts of the squaws. 
What Sioux woman fears to die in defence of her brave? What Sioux 
warrior disdains to shield himself from foeman’s blow and to shoot 
from the covert of the sheltering form of his devoted wife? 

For God’s sake, men, head ’em off! Don’t let them back among 
the women,” is the yell. But Indian tactics, stooping to anything, 
stopping at nothing, are too much for men trained to fight only as 


110 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET, 


soldiers and gentlemen. Already squaws are rushing forward, knife 
and revolver in hand. Already the hidden savages are firing from 
under tent or travois. Already a score of the best and bravest of the 
Twelfth have bit the dust. Curly Bre waster’s arm is smashed by rifle- 
bullet; Thorpe, cheering on his men, heading them in their rapid 
return fire, plunges suddenly to earth with one gasping cry, “ Oh, God ! 
My little ones !’^ Rolfe, riding like mad a dozen yards ahead of his 
men in wild effort to cut off the backward move, tumbles in senseless 
heap at the very feet of a knife-wielding fury of a woman who is 
only laid low just as her clutch is on his hair, her gleaming blade at 
his throat. Ay, on this bleak and barren and cheerless field, under 
these leaden skies, beside the black waters, streaked now with curdling 
red, the battle-fiend is loose : there is, indeed, “ the deviPs work this 
day,’^ but where the blame lies as between the soldier who must fight 
or die, and those who, far and near. East and West, so promptly lashed 
him as squaw-shooter, babe-slayer, let the God of battles decide. 


XIV. 

A month later, and Holden has his wounded safely housed under 
the roof of the hospital at old Pawnee, many severely shattered or 
suffering great pain. Many will bear to their dying day mementos of 
that savage December battle. Some of the twoscore are doing very 
well ; others, perhaps, have done better, and are sleeping under the 
flag. A busy man is Holden, and a very proud one, as he has the 
right to be, for, one and all, the troopers love to speak of him as their 
“fighting sawbones.’^ He was in the thick of it all when the rush of 
the rearward mounted troops swept into and through those fire-spitting 
lodges, and the Indians, warriors, squaws, and children, were scattering, 
fighting fiercely all the way, to the shelter of the ravines among the 
bluffs. Tireless as ever, he and his assistants are constantly at the 
bedsides of the Avounded. So is the chaplain, one of the church 
militant, whose “souFs in arms and eager for the fray,’^ for his friends 
of the Twelfth are under two fires. Gallantly and well have they 
withstood that which, with sudden treachery at the hands of thefr 
savage foes, flashed in their very faces. But they have no redress as 
against this — this civilized lashing at their very backs. The parson’s 
sermon Sunday morning in answer to the drivelling sentimentality of 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


Ill 


certain misguided ecclesiastics far from the scene of conflict almost 
lifted old Kenyon and his comrades out of their seats. The major 
hugged his chaplain after service and stopped to shake hands with him 
every time he met him during the afternoon. In many a pulpit east 
of the Missouri, with tearful fervor was the picture drawn of those 
helpless, pleading Indian mothers, those shrieking, terrified little Indian 
babes, ruthlessly slaughtered by a brutal and infuriated soldiery. Kor 
were the clergy without warrant for their ‘‘ bottom facts, since in some 
mysterious way the representatives of the press, hovering about that 
impersonal section of military anatomy known as head-quarters, were 
flooding the columns of their journals with paragraphs about the 
wanton killing of women and children in the fight in front of the 
Twelfth. ‘^Holy Joe,’’ as the parson had been termed, knew well the 
day when, in the seclusion and simplicity of his seminary life, he wmuld 
have swallowed whole just such statements and turned up the whites 
of his eyes in sympathetic horror at the recital. But the man of God 
on the banks of the Merrimac and his brother in the cross on the 
Upper Missouri see very different sides of the vexing Indian question. 
“ Holy Joe” at Pawnee this sparkling month of January was mad clear 
through at the indignities and aspersions cast upon his blue-coated com- 
rades. He wrestled with the brethren of his cloth and downed them. 
He even dared to establish a censorship of the press and to keep from 
the hands of his precious wounded those journals which had assailed 
the Twelfth. 

He had had his hands full, poor fellow, long before the wounded 
came, for those were dire days and nights after the news was flashed to 
the post and the widowed and fatherless in their affliction were thrown 
upon his hands. Poor Mrs. Thorpe ! Ah, she was only one of several. 
There was wailing among the wives and little ones down where once 
the soldiers’ families were so thickly clustered. There were other 
households in dread anxiety. There were women broken down with 
grief and sleepless watching. There was one so ill she could not even 
now be told slie wmuld never look upon the face of her gallant soldier 
again. But draw tiie veil. It was on such bleeding hearts and on the 
men who bore the brunt of the fiercest fighting of the campaign that 
the lash of press and pulpit fell. 

But old Kenyon w'as in his element. To the best and kindliest of 
men there is in being able to say “Didn’t I tell you so?” a joy that 
surpasses the sw^eets of religious consolation. It was something to hear 


112 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


him declaiming among the artillery and infantry officers during the 
days that followed the announcement of official investigation at the 
expense of the Pawnee battalions. Why, gentlemen,’^ said he, I 
have never ceased to thank God I didn’t take the chance for promotion 
that came in the reorganization twenty years ago. I was one of the 
senior captains of infantry then. I could have got one of those cavalry 
vacancies just as well as not, — been a yellow major ten years before the 
leaves dropped on my shoulders in the blue; but if by any chance I 
were ordered into the dragoons to-day I’d swap out or quit for good. 
From the time those Bloods and Piegans got their deserved thrashing 
at the hands of Tim Baker’s battalion I’ve known enough to steer 
clear of it. You know those facts as well as I do. You know those 
Indians had been murdering, robbing, burning, pillaging, for two years. 
You know how all Montana begged and implored General Sheridan to 
put a stop to it. There was no catching them until winter, and then 
when he sent those Second Cavalry fellows up there with orders to 
thrash Sheol out of them, what was the result? Didn’t the papers East 
and West turn to and damn him and them? Didn’t they dub him 
‘ Piegan Phil’ from that time forth? No, sir, no cavalry service for 
me. There’s only one thing harder than the knocks that they have 
been getting for the last twenty years on the frontier, and that’s the 
knocks they’ve had to bear at home.” 

But towards the end of January the old post was beginning to 
pluck up heart again, and, to the keen delight of Mrs. Berrien and 
Winifred, their particular major was able to drive with them, bundled 
up in his furs, and lolling back in the cushions of Berengaria’s 
barouche, as he termed his wife’s comfortable carriage, with that re- 
joicing matron by his side, distributing smiles and sunshine and joyous 
nods of recognition wherever she went ; everybody waving hand or 
hat or handkerchief as they bowled along, and Winifred — bonny 
Winifred — beaming upon her father from the front seat. Very, very 
sweet Miss Berrien was looking just now, said all who saw her; yet 
there was a shade of wistfulness in her face, a constant expression about 
those deep, dark eyes that seemed to tell tliey were ever on watch for 
one wlio never came. Shattered as was his sabre arm. Curly Brewster 
had scoffed at the idea of being sent back to Pawnee. 

^‘What’s the use?” he said. I would be utterly alone there, 
while here I have all the fellows about me. What better care do I 
need ?” 


A SOLDIEWS SECRET. 


113 


In the midst of all their trials and annoyances, in the thick of the 
whirl of events that followed their sharp and sudden fight, the officers 
and men of the Twelfth found themselves more closely drawn together 
even than before. Very little was said when outsiders were by as to 
the depth of feeling aroused in their ranks by the unaccountable 
criticism of the press. Very little had to be said in the official inves- 
tigation of the affair to clear them, one and all, of the array of allega- 
tions lodged at their doors. But that every man, from the colonel 
down, bore away from the field of their winter’s travail a sense of 
injury beyond the scar of savage missile, who could doubt? — who could 
blame? It did not prevent their having some quiet fun of their own, 
however. Gray-haired Farquhar was whimsical in his sympathy with 
Rolfe, whose scalp had been saved by the man of all others he had 
most reviled, — Sergeant Ellis. Randolph, from the recesses of the 
hospital tent, poked no end of gibes at Ridgeway, who had lost his 
eye-glasses in the morning fight and had been nearly run off with by 
the Sioux. As for Rolfe’s plight, he lost all the skin from the side 
instead of the top of his head,” laughed Gorham. It was pitiable 
enough to make the boys forget the austerity of his past, for to his 
dying day Rolfe would carry the marks of his involuntary scrap with 
a squaw,” as Randolph termed it. Rolfe’s scars have come to the 
surface,” chimed in Warren, who never could get along with him. 
They all hoped he would go back to Pawnee with the wounded train ; 
and he did. So, too, did Ellis, wearing on the arm in a sling the new 
chevrons of a first sergeant, won, as said his colonel in presenting 
them, together with the heartiest recommendation for a medal of 
honor I could write, for bravery on the field of battle.” Rolfe turned 
his bandaged head away when Holden gave him all the story. He 
knew not what to think, much less what to say. Ellis liad leaped 
through the swarm of fighting braves and with the butt of his carbine 
dashed aside the unsexed fiend whose clutching claws were in the 
captain’s hair, and then had fought like a tiger over the prostrate body 
and saved the life of the man who had maligned him. 

One half-second more, and you were gone, Rolfe,” said Holden, 
gravely. 

“ I never said he wasn’t a fine soldier,” answered Rolfe, faintly. 

Perhaps I didn’t know him aright.” 

“ That isn’t all there is to it, Rolfe,” was the doctor’s reply. He 
is more than a soldier. He is a gentleman ; and I know it.” 

8 


114 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


Yet when Eolfe expressed a desire to see and speak with Ellis later 
he calmly begged the doctor to excuse him. 

But just why Brewster would not go home with the wounded the 
boys couldn’t quite understand. He would be oif duty for months. 
He might not swing sabre again for a year. Miss Berrien was there, 
all readiness, no doubt, to thank him warmly for all he had done to 
save her and her mother from the blizzard, from the Indians, and 
heaven knows what all, — to bless him for his rescue of papa, — to beam 
upon him with those wondrous dark eyes, thought poor Eidgeway, 
who felt somehow that, after all, his cake was all dough. And yet 
Curly wouldn’t go. What was more, he had never su much as ex- 
changed one word with Winifred Berrien from the moment of the 
discovery of the ambulance. It was B throop,” as Murphy said, 
that had the honor of conveying the ladies on to camp and the bedside 
of the astonished major. It was a blow to Winifred to learn that 
within twelve hours after their arrival the old battalion had ridden 
away, Brewster with it. 

I know why Curly doesn’t dare go back,” said one of the sages 
of the bachelor mess. “ He’s afraid Knowles will come out and insist 
on lugging him off to town to be nursed under his roof, or else of her 
going out to nurse him. Begad ! it may be tough, but it’s a heap safer 
here.” And so •^Antinous” remained with his fellows in the wintry 
field, and old Berrien, who never could be got to write a letter to any- 
body, found he could stand it no longer. He bade Berengaria write 
and say — well, something ; something really must be said about how 
they appreciated his conduct ; by-gones be by-gones something, 
anything; he didn’t know; she did: she always knew just what to 
say. So write, Bess.” 

But I have, Dick.” 

Berengaria ! And without my consent?” 

^^Eichard Plantagenet, Coeur-de-Lion, T^te-de-Yeau, of course, — 
ten days ago.” 

What did you say ?” 

“ Everything that was proper, I trust.” 

What did he say ?” 

'' Nothing.” 

Didn’t he answer ?” 

How could he, Dick? You can’t with two hands; he has but 
one, the left at that.” 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


115 


He might have got somebody to write for him. I did.” 

“So did he.” 

“ Thought you said he didn’t say anything.” 

“Well, he didn’t. He said everything that was gentlemanly, 
courteous, appreciative, and yet — nothing. A model letter, Dick.” 

“ What does Winnie say ?” 

“ Nothing.” 

“ Didn’t she see it?” 

“ Why should she, Dick ? Two months ago you practically forbade 
their meeting.” 

“ Oh, I know ; but — I didn’t know him then.” 

“ Not even after seven years’ service with him, Dick ?” 

“ Oh, well, that — that party in petticoats there in town, I didn’t 
know her as well as — well, as after I heard all about her from those 
fellows in the Eleventh.” 

“ But I knew her, Dick, from the start.” 

“ I know you did, Bess. You said so ; and I suppose I’ve been an 
ass,” said Berrien, ruefully. 

“ You sometimes do cross the danger-line, Dick dear. That is, 
when I let you.” 

The major had nothing to say in response to this accusation. He 
pondered in silence a moment. “ Well, a fellow can change his mind, 
can’t he, as well as a woman ?” 

“ Not as well as a woman, Dick. Still, he can change. And sup- 
pose a certain fellow were to change his mind nowand take six months’ 
leave and go away to be cured ?” 

“What! Brewster change his mind? — about Winnie, do you 

mean? Why, confound him I I’d round him up so quick The 

idea of his going back on Winnie! Why, if I thought such a thing 
possible I’d have him here on his knees at her feet inside of a week.” 

“ Oh, no, you wouldn’t, Dick,” said she, laughing softly. 

“Wouldn’t? Why not?” 

“Just because two women wouldn’t let you, — I for one, Winnie 
for two.” 

“ You still think she cares for him?” 

“ I won’t answer that, Dick. But this,” with sudden change from 
her laughing manner, “I will say: no matter what she cared or how 
she suffered, neither you nor I, Dick, nor any one on this wide earth, 
would ever wring one word from her lips.” 


116 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


And over at Holden’s things were going on in an odd groove. It 
was Kenyon who was a frequent visitor there now, not Rolfe. Mrs. 
Holden was still in St. Louis with her olive-branches, for the doctor 
had frankly told her that just so long as he iiad all these wounded on 
his hands the children would be in his way. 

He means me,” said Jennie to Miss Guthrie, with prompt resent- 
ment. But he says next month he’ll come on here, — business will 
require it as well as pleasure, — pay us a ten days’ visit, and take us 
home. Then you’ll come too, won’t you, Kita?” But Miss Guthrie 
shook her head. 

You promised us,” said Mrs. Holden, reproachfully ; and Rolfe 
won’t be there to worry you this time,” she faltered. He’s going to 
take a long leave and go abroad.” 

But even that,” wrote Jennie to her liege, did not seem to com- 
fort her. She says she will never, probably, visit Pawnee again ; and 
I know well as can be it is all on account of that terrible fright. 
What can there have been behind it all? Now that the Twelfth are 
coming home and you have everything running smoothly, don’t you 
think it possible to find out something about that strange affair? 
You have never written a word, and I can see Nita’s eyes questioning 
me every time she knows I have a letter. The other day I was in her 
room, and, looking over some old albums that I drew from the bottom 
of a desk, I came across a picture of hers just like the one that is in 
the little silver frame on the toilet-table in her room at Pawnee, except 
that this was blurred and worn. ^ Why, Nita !’ I cried, unthinkingly, 
as she entered, ^ I thought you told me mine was the only one left of 
this kind, and here’s one that looks as if it might have been worn next 

some fellow’s heart and kissed a million ’ and then I stopped short 

and dropped it, for she had turned white as death and was stretching 
out her hands. ‘Where did you find that?’ she whispered at last. 
‘ Between the leaves of this old album,’ I said. ‘ It was lying there 
loosely.’ ‘ I had not seen it for six years. I thought I had burned it 

with ’ And then she broke off suddenly, and shuddered, but seized 

it and took it away. If she would only talk to me of Jack ; but she 
will not, even though I know that ever since the suicide of Mr. Percival 
last August Mr. Guthrie has been working day and night reopening 
the old matter. All the friends of the Guthries are now more than 
ever confident that Jack was absolutely innocent, — that Mr. Percival 
as president of the bank had made away with those missing funds and 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


117 


securities and charged it to Jack and to his friend Harold Worden. 
An effort lias been made to get at Mr. Percival’s papers, all of them, 
but his widow is still so broken that she cannot be seen by any one, say 
her physicians. It is believed she knows something of the inner his- 
tory of the whole case, and that she is striving to hide what she knows 
for her children’s sake. Of course people say she has behaved very 
ill, — that she ought to sell and restore to the bank real estate and prop- 
erty that from time to time Mr. Percival had settled upon her. But 
she only goes into hysterics when lawyers are mentioned. Mr. Guthrie 
is now in a highly nervous and excitable state, which naturally reacts 
upon Nita. I wish we could get her away from here. He went West, 
you remember, when he left her with us at Pawnee. He went in the 
hopes of finding some trace of Mr. Worden, so I learn now, and to 
urge the immediate return to St. Louis of Jack’s old and intimate 
friend to demand justice at the hands of the Percivals, for he was 
ruined irretrievably by Percival’s accusation when dismissed from the 
bank. But he has vanished utterly, and I know that they have about 
given liim up for dead. A detective agency has been at work for 
months, and twice of late men have come to the house asking if it were 
not possible to find somewhere a picture of Mr. Worden ; but Nita says 
none exist that she knows of. I believe that she burned all that she had. 

Why will she not trust me and tell me about it, — she who used to 
hav^e no secret from me? We know that he was deeply in love with 
her, and that she was believed to care for him ; but there was a fearful 
scene between him and Mr. Guthrie over poor Jack’s body. The old 
gentleman was wild with grief, and in his misery he upbraided Worden 
as the cause of it all, — accused him of being the thief, and cursed him 
for concealing his crime at the expense of Jack’s life and honor. Pos- 
sibly he did believe it then ; but since Percival’s death everything is 
changed. I believe he wouhl give all he owns to make amends to 
Worden now, and sometimes I think that that is what is killing Nita.” 

^ That that is what is killing Nita,’ ” read Holden again, this time 
half aloud, as he pondered over the words. Then a sound at the door 
attracted him. He glanced up quickly. 

“ Oh, come in, sergeant. I did not hear you knock.” 

I beg your pardon, sir,” was the answer in Ellis’s deep voice, a 
faint flush rising to his pale, black-bearded face. I knocked twice at 
the outer door, and then, knowing the doctor to be here, ventured into 
the hall. Am I too early, sir ?” 


118 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


You are just in time. Come in. Shut that door and sit down. 
How’s the arm to-day, Ellis?” 

Obediently tlie tall trooper had stepped w.thin and closed the door, 
but he still remained erect, a shade of hesitation in his maimer. The 
arm seems doing well, sir.” 

“And yet you yourself do not pick up as I could wish. Take 
that chair, Ellis; we shall not be interrupted, and I want to talk with 
you about your case. You have won honor and troops of friends in 
this campaign, and when the regiment gets back and they find you pale 
and languid, so utterly unlike yourself and unfit to take your duties 
as first sergeant, they will say I was at fault. Can’t stand that, you 
know : so I have spoken to Major Kenyon about the matter, and he has 
directed that you move out of hospital forthwith and under my roof. 
No, keep your seat. You are to report to me for special duty in mak- 
ing up the field papers and reports, and I shall need you right here 
where I can supervise it all and look after you.” 

For a moment the two men sat gazing straight into each other’s 
eyes. Then again, trembling slightly, Ellis strove to rise. 

“ Dr. Holden, I — I ought not to take advantage of this. Indeed, 
I cannot.” 

“ That will do, sir,” was the quietly smiling reply. “ Orders are 
orders, sergeant, and, being a patient, you are doubly under mine. 
What’s more, you can ask no question until that chevron is replaced 
by the shoulder-strap. EUis^ wider what name shall the officers of the 
Twelfth ask that you be made one of their number 

Making no reply, the sergeant bowed his head and covered his face 
with his hands. 

Late that evening old Kenyon, dropping in to see the doctor, found 
the tall cavalryman seated at a desk in Holden’s library, and, as lie 
promptly arose and stood erect in acknowledgment of the presence of 
the post commander, the major strode straight up to him and held out 
his hand : 

“ Sergeant, I am as proud and pleased as your own father could be. 
When a whole regiment recommends a man for a commission, as this 
day’s mail tells us, it’s worth more than all the senatorial backing in 
Columbia. It may not fetch it, but I’d rather have it. Now, have 
you any friends to aid you ?” 

“ None in the world, sir.” 

“ No relatives ? no kin ? Not even a Congressman ?” 


A SOLD IE WS SECRET. 


119 


Not even a Congressman. A sister, perhaps; but that is all.’^ 
Well, well, well ! Never mind, though, my lad ; we’ll see yon 
through. What you must do is get strong and well. You’re but the 
ghost of yourself, and the doctor and I have moved you over here as 
a matter we owe the regiment. I thought you were told to go to bed 
an hour ago. Which is your room ?” 

“ The doctor has given me the run of the top floor, sir, but mine is 
the front room on this side,” answered Ellis, gravely. 

“ Well, it’s time for you to turn in: so 1 order it. Let me see. 
This is the 25th of January. A month from now, or two at most, I 
hope to see you with a strap on your shoulder, and long before that 
with the flush of health in your cheek. Now good-night to you, and 
pleasant dreams.” And the major strode away. 

Only an hour after sunset the silver disk of the moon had risen 
cloudless and unveiled, and now, as the bugle was calling the belated 
ones back to the post for night inspection of quarters, the burnished 
shield was high aloft, flooding the broad valley with its radiant sheen, 
throwing black shadows upon the broad road-way, the white ])icket- 
fence, the glistening verandas at the post. Holden, returning from a 
late visit to some of his patients at the hospital, stopped and looked 
quickly and intently up at the little gallery overhanging the eastward 
wall. In the front room, that which he had assigned to Ellis, a light 
burned dimly. The Venetian window of the rear room leading to the 
gallery was dark, yet open, and on the little ledge, leaning against the 
casement, the moonlight gleaming on his face and form, a tall soldier 
was gazing intently eastward. Quietly Holden strode along, entered 
the gate, went noiselessly into the hall and up the stairs. The door 
from Nita’s room to the landing stood wide open. At this juncture a 
person standing outside would have seen the silent occupant of Rob- 
bers’ Roost” turn with sudden start and peer into the room, for Holden, 
liis eyes fixed upon the gleaming, glistening s})ace between the two 
rear windows and just over the toilet table, had purposely dropped 
his heavy stick with resounding clatter upon the landing floor. “ I 
thought so,” he muttered, in serene satisfaction. Then, picking up 
his stick, he calmly strolled across the threshold and into the dark room. 
Beautiful view of a moonlight night, Ellis. That was Miss 
Guthrie’s favorite perch when she was here.” 


120 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


XV. 

A great city is draped in moni’ning. On every side, at half-staff, 
the national flag hangs limp and lifeless in the moist and misty air, as 
though of its own volition drooping in honor of the soldier dead. 
Under the sodden skies, through thronged yet silent streets, in long, 
long column chosen detachments of soldiery are leading to its final 
resting-place the shrouded clay of him who to such glorious purpose 
had led the Union blue in every field from the Mississippi to the sea, 
and who through long years of honored service ranked foremost on the 
rolls of the army, — foremost, perhaps, in the great heart of the people. 
For days, as though in sympathy with the wide-spread grief, the 
heavens have poured their floods upon the brown and leafless slopes. 
All nature seems plunged in wintry gloom. The black smoke from a 
host of stacks and chimneys has settled down upon the silent city, 
covering it like a pall. From North and South, from East and West, 
battalions and batteries, national and State, have been concentrating to 
take part in the last honors to the illustrious chief, and, dripping, yet 
disciplined, without the stir of martial music, the men have marched 
from the trains to the rendezvous assigned them about the town. 

At last the hour has come. The weeping skies have checked their 
tears. The streets and sidewalks along the line of march swarm with 
citizens whose hushed voices and reverent mien speak eloquently of 
their sense of the national loss. From many a stately mansion and 
modest homestead out beyond the business section festoons of black are 
fluttering in the rising breeze, the flag is twined with crape, the windows, 
balconies, and steps are alive with speculators. And, far out on the 
westward avenue, on a sheltered portico that projects from a solid, old- 
fashioned residence of cut stone and almost overhangs the street, there 
is gathered a little bevy of fair forms and faces which we saw together 
for the first time that Indian-summery afternoon of the reception at 
Pawnee. The rapid trot of orderlies and mounted police, sent ahead to 
warn the populace off the street and back to the sidewalk, and the dis- 
tant wailing of cavalry trumpets far down the avenue, have told that 
now the funeral column is approaching; and from the warmth of the 
cosey parlor, well wrapped in mantles and furs, the ladies have come 
forth into the chilly February day, — Mrs. Berrien, Mrs. Holden and 
her children, Winifred, whose soft cheeks are aglow and whose dark 
eyes turn instantly, eagerly towards the head of the advancing escort, 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


121 


Nita Guthrie, pallid, languid when unobserved by her guests, yet 
brightening instantly, bravely, when addressed, and striving to be her 
old gracious, radiant self for the sake of these and other visitors from 
Pawnee ; for the Twelfth has been detailed especially to lead the escort 
of the great commander, and all the way from the frontier and only a 
few days home from the stirring scenes of its fierce campaign the regi- 
ment has been brought hither by the orders of a general who knows 
their worth as well he knows their wrongs, and whose soldier heart has 
felt for them in all their trials. It was in his power to give this honor 
to others, but, though his own old regiment is within easy call, he 
means that the people shall see for themselves what manner of men are 
these whom press and pulpit have assailed and against whose fair fame 
the shafts of slander have been hurled, only to fall blunted and broken, 
or, like boomerangs, come hurtling back about the ears of the thrower. 
Vindicated by the verdict of his peers, doubly vindicated by the highest 
powers of the land, gray-haired Farquhar is chosen to command the 
escort, and, though the flower of the nation’s soldiery marches in the 
funeral train this day, the eyes of all the gathered throng are strained 
to see and hail and honor the standard and the guidons of the men who 
bore the brunt of battle only two short months gone by. 

And with the squadrons and the guns from Pawnee came such of 
the wounded officers as were well enough to be transported hither, and 
with them half a dozen of the ladies of the garrison. To the huge 
delight of the old battalion, two of whose troops are cruelly thinned in 
numbers now, the jovial major is permitted by Dr. Holden to mount 
Old Glory” and take his position in front of the line. To the 
tremulous joy of Winifred Berrien, Mr. Brewster has telegraphed 
from Washington, whither he was summoned immediately after the 
close of the investigation at the agency, bidding them bring his horse 
and equipments, for even though he cannot draw sabre he means 
to ride with the black troop” on this day of days. She has not 
seen him since that wonderful morning when, like a young snow- 
king, he burst through the fleecy barriers about them and stood before 
her rejoicing eyes their rescuer, her father’s preserver, her lover, her 
hero ; and ever since in his pride he has held aloof from her and all 
she holds dear. She can hardly hush the fluttering of her heart as 
now, near at hand, she hears the familiar strains of the trumpets of 
the Twelfth, still sounding the mournful dead-march. Other ladies of 
the Twelfth are here, — Mrs. Hazlett, Mrs^ Gorham, and Mrs. Warren ; 


122 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


and small wonder can there be that their soft eyes fill with tears. Ever 
since the brief and bloody campaign the sad, solemn tones have been 
their daily music. The crape is not yet rusting on the sword-hilts of 
their lords, worn in honor of poor Thorpe and Kand and Burrows, 
when it is renewed for the general-in-chief. 

And now the crowds have drifted back from the asphalt. The 
platoon of mounted police has slowly clattered by. Then in long 
rank, boot to boot, mujffled in their blue overcoats, the yellow-lined 
capes turned back, led by their veteran chief and guiding their spirited 
grays with hardly a touch of rein, the trumpeters of the Twelfth cover 
the street from curb to curb, the brazen bells uplifted and pouring forth 
their mournful strains. A little space, and then, mounted on mettle- 
some bay in the rich housings of a general officer, there rides the 
marshal of the parade, followed by rank after rank of staff-officers, all 
in the sombre dark blue of the service. The autumn frosts of a 
vigorous life have silvered the strands at his temple and tinged with 
ruddy glow the cheeks of that firm and soldierly face, but the eyes 
gleam clear and keen as ever they shone a quarter-century ago, when 
he and Farquhar spurred through the misty forest-aisles about Dinwiddie 
and led the cheering troopers to the charge on Pickett^s crouching line 
at the Forks. He knows the fair party on the Guthrie balcony at a 
single glance, and touches the visor of his forage-cap as he moves 
slowly by, then summons an aide, gives him a low-toned order, and the 
officer reins aside to let his comrades pass, then jogs back down the 
avenue to meet the column. And now necks are craning on every 
side, and a murmur runs along the crowded banquette, — 

A murmur that fain would break forth in a cheer, 

but for the solemn occasion of their coming. Eyes gleam and brighten ; 
lips stir with inarticulate greeting; hands, kerchiefs, and hats are 
waved in voiceless acclaim. Any other time, and all the great city 
would burst into tumultuous cheer, for here rides gray-haired Farquhar 
at the head of his staff, and just behind them, commanding the 
Twelfth, still pallid from his wounds, but erect and soldierly as ever, 
the senior major, dear old Berrien, lowers his sabre in acknowledg- 
ment of the salute of the aide, bends his ear to listen to the message, 
glances quickly at the balcony into the smiling face of his wife, meeting 
Winifred’s dark and glowing eyes, but shakes his head, motions to Dr. 
Holden, who is at his left rear, and ambles on. Holden nods appre- 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET, 


123 


ciatively on receipt of what seems to be a similar message, reins out of 
column, followed by his orderly, dismounts at the side street, and 
presently is standing by his wife’s side, welcomed most cordially by 
Miss Guthrie to the now crowded balcony. In column of platoons 
stretching from walk to walk, clear across the street, ranks carefully 
aligned, every man’s head and eyes straight to the front, the leading 
troops of the Twelfth are now clinking steadily by. Hazlett has 
glanced out of the corners of his eyes at the lovely picture on the 
gallery, but, riding at the attention as they are, and on duty, he makes 
no sign. Randolph and Ridgeway, heading their platoons, strive to do 
two things at once, — look as though they saw and appreciated the 
fluttering greetings of hand and handkerchief and smiling eyes to their 
right, and still look as though they did not see it at all. The sorrels, 
the grays, have gone by, the bay troop is passing, and now yonder 
comes Gorham over on the other side of the street, the nearest he can 
get to his regulation position of four yards to the left of his leading 
platoon, and out from the sheltering screen of tree-branches and in 
front of the centre of the first subdivision of the blacks, his sabre arm 
still in its sling, his face pale with confinement and suffering, but tall 
and stalwart, rides Curly. 

Oh, there’s Mr. Brewster ! Mr. Brewster ! Oh, why doesnH he 
look ?” cries Miss Guthrie, as the handkerchiefs begin waving furiously, 
and fair, eager faces press forward in the effort to attract his attention, 
— all but Winifred, who, though bravely smiling like the rest, is 
clutching with trembling hands the back of her mother’s chair and 
shrinking behind her mother’s form. It is impossible for him not to see 
the fluttering signals. He half glances towards that thronging gallery, 
and in a second the light leaps to his eyes, a flush to his pallid cheek. 
Instinctively his arm twitches in the effort of the hand to reach the cap- 
visor, and the instant twinge of shooting pain brings him to his senses. 
He has one brief, fleeting look, however, at the beaming face he loves, 
and he has just time for a half-gesture with the bridle-hand, a little 
nod, and then, as on he rides, he feels rather than sees that one sweet 
face that beamed upon him has suddenly paled, that one graceful form 
is now staggering back into Holden’s waiting and expectant arms. 
Only two platoons in the black troop to-day, for the others sleep 
beneath the wintry sod or still languish in the hospital ward. Only 
two platoons. Brewster heads the first; a tall, dark-eyed, dark- 
moustached sergeant the second. 


124 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


There’s Sergeant Ellis!” cries Mrs. Berrien, in her pride and 
pleasure. ^‘And he’s shaved off his beard! Did you ever see him 
look so young and well ?” 

But Mrs. Holden, too, has turned, and does not heed. Her watch- 
ful eyes, her attentive ears, have other work to do. Obedient to her 
husband’s touch, she has drawn close to his side. It is into her arms 
and his that, with one quick, gasping, stifled cry, Nita Guthrie has fallen 
as though stricken by a bolt from heaven. It is by these loving arms 
the limp and prostrate form is quickly borne within and laid upon 
the sofa, and Holden whispers to his devoted wife, “ It is all clear 
now.” 

That night, the long ceremonies of the day concluded, a throng of 
fair women and brave men are gathered in the parlors and corridor of 
the great hotel. Down in the marbled court below, some Italian 
musicians are playing soft, sweet music. Out in the street, under the 
glare of the electric light, a fine regiment of State troops has drawn 
up in long-extended line and is standing at ease while its officers are 
bidding farewell to a host of friends upon the walks below. Here 
and above are soldiers of all branches of the service, who with the 
morning’s sun will be scattering to their stations again. Some are 
clustered - in the broad vestibules and on the office floor. Others, the 
juniors mainly, are paying their respects to the wife of the com- 
manding general and to the ladies of the Twelfth, for on the morrow 
they too, with the regiment, take flight for their prairie home. The 
hour is late, and several of those present have just come in from a 
somewhat subdued and quiet entertainment given in their honor at one 
of the beautiful homes of the city. The solemn nature of the duty 
that has called them hither precludes the possibility of any general 
gathering, but the dinner to which the Berriens and others were bidden 
has lasted so long that Winifred began to believe it would never end, 
and Mrs. Berrien has seen all too plainly that, though she strove to 
appear joyous and appreciative, her daughter longed to leave the scene 
and return to the hotel, where, as was well known, many of the officers 
were to spend the evening. Not until nightfall had the Twelfth 
passed by on its return from the march to the distant cemetery, and as 
they jogged along at ease one or two of the troop or platoon com- 
manders, in answer to joyous hail from the sidewalk, had reined out 
of column by old Berrien’s permission and dismounted under the 
portico, but Brewster, smiling, had shaken his head and gone on with 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


125 


his blacks to the muddy cantonment far down at the southern verge. 
Winifred was already dressed for dinner. She had hastened to her 
room as soon as they returned from the Guthries’, and Mrs. Berrien 
made no comment. She well understood that the girl’s one thought 
was to be ready to welcome if he should come : there was no telling at 
what minute he might be announced. And, though they were not to 
leave the hotel until nearly seven, Winifred was ready at four. The 
mother heart yearned over her child as she saw how the shadows 
deepened in her dark eyes when the column went on out of sight in 
the wintry gloaming, Brewster with it. At that moment she could 
almost share her husband’s idea of bringing the young man to his knees 
then and there. What business had he playing the indifferent in this 
utterly unsoldierly fashion ? How dare he treat Winifred with cold- 
ness? She had done him no wrong. Not since that night of the last 
hop at Pawnee, the night the marching orders came, had there been 
opportunity for the girl to speak to him at all. Of course the major 
had been brusque and repellent, and had virtually forbidden his further 
attentions; but, heavens, that was not Winifred’s doing, and both the 
major and herself had endeavored to show him, without unnecessary 
allusion to the matter, that, whatsoever might have been the suspicions 
or impressions aroused by the singular conduct of that middle-aged 
married flirt at Pawnee, they no longer entertained the faintest ill 
opinion of him. Indeed, Mrs. Berrien never had. Blue-blooded 
herself, her faith in bon sang was deep-rooted. She had always liked 
Brewster, but she was a loyal wife and would in no wise act counter 
to her husband’s wishes. It was now, when Mr. Brewster seemed 
allowing his pride and resentment to prompt him to this undeserved 
and cruel wounding of her daughter’s heart, that Mrs. Berrien first 
felt any unkindliness. She could have made him suffer for it, but that 
she knew it would hurt Winifred as well. Without a word, but just 
so soon as the last of the yellow cape-linings disappeared from view, 
Winifred had turned from the parlor and again sought her room. Mrs. 
Berrien sent a bell-boy for Mr. Eandolph, who, having dismounted at 
the entrance, was standing, the centre of a group of friends, in the 
marble-floored office below, and Randolph came up with the next trip 
of the elevator. 

‘‘ Do you go with us to the dinner at the A s’ to-night, Mr, 

Randolph ?” 

No, Mrs. Berrien ; I believe only those who are so fortunate as 


126 


A SOLDIERS SECRET. 


to be the husbands of certain ladies of the Twelfth are bidden. We 
are going to have a little gathering here to see Curly off.’^ 

“ And where does Curly go ? — and when 
Back to Washington by the first train, Mrs, Berrien. He’s been 
offered a detail at the War Department.” 

‘^How delightful that is for Mr. Brewster! Why, the Twelfth is 
getting some little recognition, after all. Up to this moment the 
general’s welcome home is the only word we’ve had from a soul. Then 
you’ll all be here to-night, will you?” 

Most of us. Rolfe’s here, too,” laughed Randolph, but he sat 
in a deep window during the procession and doesn’t mean to show in 
public yet. I’m told he wants to make up with Curly before he goes 
to-night, but Curly won’t let him.” And Randolph knit his brows. 

I wouldn’t if I w^ere Brewster. Wouldn’t it be odd if they took the 
same train, though ? I suppose he won’t care to exhibit that new 
cheek of his to Miss Guthrie. Will she be here after the dinner?” 

I doubt it, Mr. Randolph. Miss Guthrie is not at all well. She 
had a sinking-spell of some kind this afternoon during the parade, and 
has not left her room since. Say to Mr. Brewster for me that we 
shall hope to see him before he leaves, will you ? We’ll be back about 
ten o’clock.” 

But it is after ten, long after, that now they are gathered in the 
parlors, and music, laughter, and the sound of merry voices ring 
through the wide corridors. Winifred, the wistful look gone from her 
dark eyes, a soft flush on her cheek, is standing near one of the high 
windows, the centre of a group of ladies and officers, among whom at 
this moment is Brewster, his right arm still in its sling. Though she 
strives, after her first fluttering welcome, not to glance at him again, 
just now at least, she cannot quite control her eyes. She cannot but 
mark with shy delight how her father’s broad palm is laid upon her 
hero’s shoulder, as the veteran trooper looks into the younger soldier’s 
face with an expression she is thankful to see. All around the big, 
stiffiy-furnished, formal room, with laughter and with gladness old 
friends are meeting again for the first time in years, — one at least 
of the joys of our nomad army life. The buzz of conversation, the 
remarks of Mr. Ridgeway, who clings to her side, and the sweet, 
thrilling strains of “Rigoletto,” floating up from the rotunda, fall 
upon listless ears. Winifred is striving to catch his words, for now her 
mother has joined them, and her cordial, kindly voice mingles with 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


127 


those about her. She cannot hear what is said, except in mere snatches, 
a word here and there, but she can and does see that, though thoroughly 
courteous, Brewster is dignified, almost unresj)onsive. When her father 
makes some jovial allusion to his narrow escape at the Porcupine and 
would apparently refer to Brewster’s rush to the rescue, the latter 
seems to wave it aside and turn at once to another subject. Why will 
he be so — so unlike his old self? 

Hark! From the street below the ringing call of the bugle! 
Randolph pokes his head in through the other window: 

‘^Come out, all of you. Come and see them march away.” It is 
that handsome regiment from the Queen City. And in a trice, men 
and women, they are pouring out upon the roof of the portico. 

Come along !” shouts old Berrien. Come along ! Let’s give 
’em a cavalry send-off.” And away he goes at the heels of the throng. 
“ Come, Berengaria, you want to see this regiment, I tell you. It’s a 
beauty. And such a band !” But Berengaria holds back an instant. 

Winifred, dear, your wraps are not here, and I fear it is too chilly 
for you.” 

“Oh, I’ll throw my cape over her,” bursts in Ridgeway. “Just 
the thing! — Come, Miss Berrien. — Where’s your cape, Curly? You 
bring Mrs. Berrien, will you?” And, rejoicing in his finesse, Mr. 
Ridgeway offers his arm. 

“ My cape’s down-stairs in the office,” answers Brewster, shortly. 

“Yes, and whatever you do, Brewster, don’t you go out in the 
night air without it,” quietly remarks Dr. Holden at this juncture, as 
he follows the party. 

“ Orders are orders,” laughs Mrs. Berrien. “ Sorry for you, Mr. 
Brewster, but you’ll have to see them through our eyes. — Yes, thank 
you, Mr. Ridgeway,” as she possesses herself of that young trooper’s 
arm, “I shall be very glad of your cape.” And Ridgeway, with one 
stupefied backward glance, recovers himself and goes. 

Winifred is still standing by the curtained window, half hidden by 
the projection of the chimney and its marble mantel. Very, very 
lovely she is in her dinner toilet, a simple gown, clinging in its soft, 
creamy folds about her slender form, a necklace of rare pearls, a 
beautiful quaint old heirloom, looped below her fair, rounded throat, 
its pendant rising and falling rapidly, unevenly now, for her heart is 
throbbing hard. One moment Brewster hesitates, casts a quick glance 
around, then steps forward to her side. 


128 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


Possibly we can see from this window, Miss Berrien,” he says, as 
he raises the shade. And together they disappear into the curtained 
alcove. 

But they cannot see. This window, like the other, looks upon the 
roof of the portico, and the backs of their numerous friends are visible, 
but not the street, — not the departing soldiery in whom such interest 
is felt. It is chilly here by the cold, glassy barrier. A bright coal-fire 
is blazing in the grate. Both have been warned not to take cold, yet 
neither seems to think of that fire. 

“ No, I’m afraid we can’t see them here,” says Winifred, inanely. 

But won’t you go and get your cape ?” 

I saw them to-day, and I can see them again to-morrow.” 

“ To-morrow ? Where ?” And now the dark eyes, full of trouble, 
glance quickly up. 

Hear those sounds from below ! The shrill voice of the colonel : 

Column of fours. Break from the right to march to the left.” The 
inevitable boom, boom, br-r-oom, boom, boom, of the drums. Loud 
plaudits and cheers from the crowd. Lively applause from the portico. 
Low voices are indistinguishable here at the window. Brewster pulls 
down the shade ; it may shut out the noise, thin as it is, and, so long 
as one can’t see anything, why have it up ? 

“Where?” she repeats. “I thought they went East, and that 

we ” But she gets no further. The pearl pendant is rising and 

falling like a storm-tossed shallop. Her slender fingers are nervously 
twisting and untwisting her filmy handkerchief. Tramp, tramp, tramp, 
echoing the drum-beats, the column of fours is striding away down the 
applauding thoroughfare. Then, as the band clears the left flank of 
the line and opens out across the street, joyous, spirited, ringing, it 
bursts into martial song. Where had she heard that introduction 
before? Surely there’s something familiar. But she has no time to 
think of that now. 

“ I supposed — ^you never cared for — detached service,” she falters. 
“But — is it your wound?” 

He shakes his head : 

“ Three months ago I would not have left the regiment. Now I 
am better anywhere away from it.” 

Oh, Curly, Curly ! “ What fools these mortals be !” You should 

have sense enough to see how utterly the situation has changed. You 
ought to know that something more than gratitude has prompted all 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


129 


old Berrien’s clumsy efforts at cordiality. You ought to see by Mrs. 
Berrien’s unaffected kindliness that the cloud has been dispelled. Why 
stand in your own light, a victim to this bumptious pride, striving to 
persuade yourself that had it not been for the fortunes of war her 
father would have interposed to-day as sternly and positively as he did 
before, and she — she would probably have as meekly, tamely submitted 
as she did that bitter night of parting at the gate? Can you never for- 
give that unresponsive hand, that half-shrinking, constrained good-by? 

He is silent, waiting for her reply. He will not look at her, for 
her beauty dazzles, almost drives him wild with passionate love and 
longing. He has worshipped her, adored her as loyal knight might 
worship his queen of love and beauty. Down in his heart of hearts 
her image has lived through every instant of the fierce campaign, and 
reigns there now, rebel against it though he may. Her silence daunts 
him. If he had thought to pique or trap her into questioning, it was 
unworthy of his love and her. Her little hands are clasping now. 
She has started, raised her head, is listening intently. Absorbed only 
in her, in his love, in his wrongs, Brewster has lost all ear for the 
thrilling, martial music growing fainter and fainter down the street, 
but the look in her sweet face startles him. The color has fled. The 
dark eyes are dilating. One little hand is uplifted, as if to ward off 
any other sound. Borne on the night wind the strains come full and 
rich upon the ear. No wonder the girl is silenced, stunned. Oh for 
the clasping mother’s arms now ! Oh for the love, the wordless 
sympathy, that was hers that cold, gray wintry morning when the 
battalion with its loved ones strode buoyantly away down the winding 
road at Pawnee ! All the heart-breaking sorrow, all the vague, throb- 
bing, quivering pain, come back to her again as now she leans breath- 
less against the casement, listening to the same sad, sweet, tearful old 
song,— 

Love not, love not, ye hapless sons of clay ! 

One instant only she stands trembling there, then a great sob surges up 
in her throat, and, burying her face in her hands, she bursts away, she 
runs she knows not whither. Out into the deserted corridor, along 
the carpeted aisle, she speeds. Then to her left, wide open, brightly 
lighted, she spies the elevator, and, with the leap of hunted hare to its 
form, slie springs within. No one there. She tries to shut the sliding 
door, but now some one is there, — Brewster, — and his one arm is too 

9 


130 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


strong for her two. An instant more and he is with her, blessing the 
fates that had carried off the attendant for a surreptitious look at the 
departing regiment. With quick decision Curly pulls the starting- 
rope, and, when the car has glided softly upward just half-way to the 
next floor, checks its motion, then springs to her side. Never till that 
instant had he known the full misery of a crippled and useless arm. 

‘‘ Winifred, sweet one, listen he cries, seizing a slender wrist and 
striving to draw her hand away, as, sobbing, she crouches in the corner 
of the cage, while his brave young heart is thumping with a joy and 
exultation it never knew before. His blue eyes are aflame with love 
and gladness. 

Listen ! Don’t cry so ! I must tell you.” 

E,-r-r-r-ring ! goes the confounded elevator-bell. She springs to 
her feet, stifling her sobs, conquering her womanly weakness. 

Oh, do let me out !” she cries, dashing away the tears. 

I won’t,” he answers, with such joyous, teasing triumph in his deep 
tones. Though a million men a minute ring that bell, I’ll never let 
you go now, — never. You cruel, wicked, heartless girl, you sent me 
away ” 

“ Oh, do let me out, Mr. Brewster !” she pleads. Indeed you 
must.” (R-r-r-r-r-ring.) There’s that awful bell again.” 

“ You sent me away,” he calmly continues, while his eyes dance 
and gleam, utterly miserable because of your coldness and constraint. 
You knew I worshipped the very ground you stood upon. You knew 

I loved you better than anything in the wide world ” (R-r-r-r-r-r- 

B-r-r-r-r-r-nn^ !) 

I must go,” she pleads, struggling hard to free the hand he has 
clasped. “Oh, do, Mr. Brewster!” 

“You shall, — you shall, the very instant you have paid toll. Miss 
Berrien,” he laughs, low. (R-r-r-r-r-r B-r-r-r-r-ring I) “ I’ll put 
you out on any floor you wish when you have said just two words.” 

“ Oh, quick ! Do let me go 1” And she makes a frantic lunge at 
the starting-rope, but too late. His daring arm is round her now. 
He can use but one, and that has enfolded and drawn her close to his 
breast. The clatter of the bell is deafening. “ Oh, please,” she mur- 
murs, struggling in vain, and glancing up in his glorified face. 

“Not until you say, ^Yes, Carroll.’ Now, quick I Winifred, do 
you love me, just a little?” No answer. Head bowed again, and 
now on the only available resting-place. (B-r-r-r-r-r- B-r-r-r-r-r- 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


131 


B-r-r-r-r-RiNG !) “ I can’t hear/’ he laughs low and joyously, and 

the blond head bows until the curling moustache is sweeping her 
flushed and tear-wet cheek. “Did you speak, Miss Berrien?” 

“ Yes, Carroll.” A mere whisper. 

“ Louder, please. Miss Berrien.” Oh, what eloquence there is in 
that one clasping arm ! 

“ Oh, please let me go ! Yes, yes ! yes ! — if I must.” And then 
the bell rattles madly, but unavailingly, and for the instant neither 
hears. For the instant she can speak no more, for the soft, red lips 
are sealed. 

Two minutes later, as that brightly-lighted car glides down and 
comes to a stop at the parlor floor, a flushed and wrathful youth con- 
fronts the tall cavalryman who calmly steps forth as though on air and 
holds out a warning hand. 

“Young man, if ever I hear of you quitting your post again and 
allowing a novice to get caught between floors you’ll get into trouble. 
It’s lucky for you I’m the only one who can tell anything about it this 
time.” But the wrath is gone, and with bulging eyes the boy glares 
at the round gold piece in his palm, then at the vanishing lieutenant, 
and then into the empty car. 

Homeward bound ! The horses are all aboard. The second bat- 
talion has steamed away. Berrien’s men from the car windows are 
answering the cheers of the crowds of citizens assembled to see them 
off. The ladies, safely ensconced in the cosey interior of the Pullman, 
are saying adieu to the number of friends, army and civilian, who have 
accompanied them to the train. The conductor has just reported “All 
ready, sir,” to Major Berrien, who goes back in command, and Wini- 
fred, clinging to her mother’s side, peers eagerly over the heads of the 
surrounding throng. Holden signals to his better half to come off, 
unless she prefers going back to Pawnee without him, and with ranch 
laughter and playful effort to keep her aboard, in which the jovial 
major is most prominent, that popular young matron is finally lifted 
from the rear platform. Mr. Ridgeway, who has attached himself to 
Miss Berrien’s side, becomes suddenly aware that she has disappeared 
and returned to the interior, also that Curly Brewster, waving a brown 
telegraph envelope over his head, has shouldered his way into the 
crowd and is making for the car. “ Wants another good-by word, I 
suppose,” growls Ridgeway to himself, in deep disgust, yet comforted 


132 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


with the thought that the train will be o£F in a moment, leaving 
Brewster behind. Far forward a bell begins to ring, the steam to hiss ; 
the couplings of the box-cars jerk and strain ; the horses snort and 
stamp in their wooden cages ; the motion reaches the rear of the train, 
and the Pullman leaps forward with sudden start, then settles into 
slow, gentle glide along the polished rails. 

‘‘ Tumble off, Brewster shouts Bidgeway, in feverish anxiety. 
“You’ll be carried away if you don’t.” 

“Shut up. Ridge,” whispers Randolph, unsympathetically. “He’s 
carried away for good. It’s you that’s left.” 

“ Why, hello ! here’s Brewster !” booms the major, as he enters the 
sunshiny car, when at last the crowded station has faded from view. 
“ Thought you were ordered to Washington, lad ? Changed your 
mind, eh? — What, Berengaria?” 

“ Be quiet, Dick,” whispers his smiling wife. “ He hasn’t changed 
his mind. Neither has Winifred.” 

But Holden is not the only one of the Pawnee party who remains. 
Sergeant Ellis has a furlough to visit Louisville, and is to take the 
train thither. In his cavalry uniform he was at the station to see his 
comrades safely started, and the last cheers of the troopers were for him, 
as he stood with kindling eye and flushing cheek, the centre of a crowd 
of curious citizens. As the train disappears around the distant curve, 
Holden touches his shoulder. 

“At noon, Ellis?” 

“ At noon, sir,” is the prompt response ; and the sergeant recovers 
himself, and, springing to attention, raises his hand in salute. Holden 
smiles. 

“ I fancy that’s about the last time you’ll be doing that sort of 
thing,” he says, significantly. 

“ You may rest assured that the impulse will remain, doctor. It is 
the outward sign of an inward respect that every day has only served 
to strengthen.” 

At noon Holden is at the hotel with a carriage, and Ellis, trans- 
mogrified, a decidedly distinguished-looking civilian, steps forth from 
the vestibule and joins the doctor. 

“ To Warren L. Guthrie’s office,” is the brief order, and the carriage 
rolls rapidly away. 

“ Mrs. Holden is with Miss Guthrie now,” says Holden, after a 
moment’s silence. “ As yet she is to be told nothing, — as you desire ; 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET, I33 

but should we hear favorably as to the commission before our return to 
Pawnee ?’’ he asks, tentatively. 

No, doctor. If we meet again it must be as I was, not what this 
campaign has made me.’^ 

“ What you have made yourself, man ! Don’t talk of it in that way. 
The Lord made you a gentleman. You made yourself a soldier.” 

Ellis smiles. 

‘‘A gentleman despite night prowling and petty larceny?” 

Well,” says Holden, “ that’s something I leave you to settle with 
her. It seems you only carried out a fair warning, though of course 
you had no idea of the ghastly effect it would have. But you never 
told me how you reached that balcony.” 

“ Easily enough, doctor. I simply took a light rope and grappling- 
hook from the fire-house, climbed up the rear porch at the end away 
from where Kathleen and Murphy were, went along the south slope 
of the main roof to the chimney, slung the rope about it and lowered 
myself gently to the. balcony, then threw off my overcoat and stood at 
the open window. She had gone, and I thought I was too late, but, 
catching sight of the very picture whose return she had demanded and 
which I had sworn to have again as well as to see her, I was just 
entering, when I heard her step upon the stairs. I did not see her. I 
do not see how it was possible for her to see me ; yet there came that 
scream of terror and the fall and then the rush. It all flashed over me 
in an instant that I had been guilty of a mad-brained prank, — that it 
would never do to be caught there ; it could never be explained. I was 
up on the roof in a second, snatched away the hook and rope, crouched 
down to the back porch, waited a moment for Murphy and Kathleen 
to run inside, then slid to the ground, hid the rope under the wood- 
pile in the dark cellar, squeezed through a gap in the fence into the cap- 
tain’s yard next door, — they were all over at the Hazletts’, — then donned 
my overcoat and joined the men running up from the laundresses’ quar- 
ters. Late at night, as the sentry told Captain Rolfe, I went back, 
ostensibly to get my pipe, and recovered the rope and hook. That was all.” 

Holden ponders a moment : 

My wife has told me what she knew of your interview with Mr. 
Guthrie after poor Jack’s death ; but Miss Guthrie would never speak 
of what passed between herself and you.” 

On the pale, clear-cut face the lines of care and sorrow and pri- 
vation seem to deepen. The shadows darken about the mournful eyes. 


134 


A SOLDIER’S SECRET. 


I suppose I should never have blamed her as I did/’ he answers, 
but I was mad with grief over Jack, with helpless, hopeless indig- 
nation over Percival’s accusation ; and then, of all others, to have her 
turn against me as she did, — that was the bitterest cup ! Her father’s 
influence in her over-wrought condition was what did it, I suppose; 
but she drove me from her sight as though I were indeed a felon, de- 
manded the return of every line and trinket she had ever given me, — 
even that prized little carte de vidte I had carried about me for a year. 
It was then, when she declared she would never look upon my face 
again, that I went wild with misery, or despair, I suppose. I swore 
that sooner or later she . should see me, and that before I died her 
picture would be back here in its old place, and then I left her. God 
knows, the experiences of the years that followed might have knocked 
the romantic nonsense out of any man. My poor sister seemed to be 
the only one who had any faith left in me. I wandered all over the West 
as Ralph Erroll, mining, ^grub-staking/ working like a dog. I was 
starving in the Hills when Brewster came to my aid. I couldn’t take 
his money without telling him something of my story, but I gave no 
names. He doesn’t know to-day anything about the old trouble, — 
doesn’t dream that he well knows the people who were once my most 
cherished friends. It was through him I enlisted, and within three 
months a mine I had located and yet couldn’t sell for a dollar began to 
pay. By the time we reached Pawnee my half-interest in it proved 
worth all my years of toil. Then I thought to see her again, — took 
my furlough at the very time her father was West trying to find me 
and undo the wrong he had done, and — you know the rest. She was 
here, and I returned only to learn that she was about to leave and that 
Captain Rolfe was her accepted lover. Bearded, aged, uniformed as I 
was, I believed she would not know me even if we were to meet face 
to face ; and believing, more, that no vestige of the regard she once 
felt for me remained, believing, too, that she was to marry Captain 
Rolfe, I was bitter, brutal, mad enough to strive to carry out my vow. 
Twice I had seen her on that balcony on the moonlit evenings, and I 
determined that the night of her departure she should see me for the 
last time. You know the rest. I shaved clean, so as to look as much 
as possible as I did in the old days, wore my civilian dress, and — 
nearly killed her.” 

It was a fearful experiment,” says Holden, gravely. About the 
maddest thing you could have done.” 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


135 


I was mad, doctor, when I heard she was to marry him. God 
knows I have realized it daily, hourly, ever since. And, yet, how 
could she have seen me? She never reached the door.” 

“ Simplest thing in the world. Nothing but the old principle in 
optics, — the angle of incidence and the angle of reflection. That 
mirror over the toilet table did the job. I saw you in the moonlight 
at the balcony window when you couldn’t see me in the dark hall, and 
neither of us could have seen the other had the mirror been away. 
Now here’s Mr. Guthrie’s. Mind you, you’ve got to make amends for 
that hare-brained performance at Pawnee : so no word of reproach to 
him. He’s old and broken.” 

Three minutes later the clerk has retired, after ushering Holden and 
his friend into the private office. The instant the latch has clicked, a 
gray-haired, sorrow-stricken man, tears standing in his fading eyes, 
hands quivering and trembling, totters forward, and might have fallen 
but for the strong arms that catch and clasp him. 

My boy’s friend ! my boy’s friend, — whom I so wronged !” he 
falters, and then for a while there is solemn silence. 

‘‘ Is Mr. Percival’s confession complete, and have you seen it ?” 
asks Ellis, gently. 

I have, my boy, at last.” 

And it clears me, Mr. Guthrie?” 

Utterly and entirely,” the old man cries. I thank my God I 
was wrong ! — I was wrong !” 

One scene more. Pawnee again. The night train has come from 
the East. Holden’s carriage is at the station, and so is Brewster. 

All right ? — all arranged ?” whispers the doctor, as he springs 
from the car and grasps the lieutenant’s hand. 

All right! Kenyon’s just left him,” answers Curly, and then 
busies himself lifting the merry children from the step, welcoming 
Mrs. Holden, and carefully assisting Nita Guthrie to the platform. 

You happy fellow !” she murmurs. ‘‘ How can I congratulate 
you? It’s announced, is it not?” And for a moment she seems, 
despite pallor and fatigue, the old buoyant, radiant Nita. 

‘‘ Announced ?” answers Curly. My mother-in-law elect — God 
bless her ! — says my face announced it before that elevator could reach 
the lower floor.” 

They drive rapidly up the winding road, and, though plainly 


136 


A SOLDIER'S SECRET. 


nervous and excited, the fair guest never loses her presence of mind. 
She has something appreciative to say as they pass each familiar 
object, — the lower gate, where the spruce sentry stands at a carry in 
salute; the guard-house, where the relief is just forming; the broad- 
west gate; the brightly-lighted barracks across the parade ; the group 
of trumpeters in the moonlight out under the tall, glistening flag-stafi: 
Then come the rush of Murphy and Kathleen to open the door and 
assist them to alight; the rapturous greeting between the children and 
their Hibernian friends; the fragrance of coffee floating in from the 
kitchen ; the hickory logs snapping and sparkling in the fireplace ; the 
old familiar rooms; the swinging lamp in the hall. 

‘‘ Welcome to Pawnee once more, Nita,’’ says Holden, clasping both 
her hands. We’ve had enough of pale cheeks and drooping spirits. 
We’ve brought you here to recall the roses, — to win you back to joy 
and health, and to your own old room, Nita. Now, will you promise 
not to faint this time, no matter what spooks you see ?” 

She is trembling violently. She looks into his beaming face with 
eager, questioning, imploring eyes. 

“Come, dear,” whispers Mrs. Holden. “ I’m going up with you.” 

The doctor summons the children into the dining-room to see the 
lovely flowers on the table. Mrs. Holden twines her arm about her 
cousin’s waist, and up the stair they slowly go. Nita trembles more 
and more. They are within a few steps of the landing, and as they 
come in sight of the open door Nita shrinks closer to her cousin’s side. 
Three ste{)s more, and in the dark chamber there gleams that silvery 
shield of mirror between the dim white curtains, reflecting the dazzling 
moonlight from without. They reach the landing, and Miss Guthrie 
pauses, breathless, unnerved. She can go no farther. 

“ Nita, it was no ghost you saw,” whispers Mrs. Holden. “ Shall 
I call him ?” 

One instant the blue eyes dilate, wild with hope, incredulity, joy, 
and fear, all intermingled. Then there is the sound of quick, springing 
step along the hall. A tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed soldier fairly leaps 
towards them. Nita turns quickly at the sound, and then with out- 
stretched arms throws herself forward to meet him. No terror, no 
anguish now, but, as she is clasped to his heart, joy unutterable in her 
stifled cry, in the one word, — 

“Harold !” 


THE END. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 















W'- > 


^v :j 









kn. 



L i c? • . '»' •4SWM f-taKiA/^S 


. ^ ■ » 5;. V ^ *<• •- ^'V- ' i 



;. ‘:W .; j' >■ 









AN ARMY PORTIA 


I. 

I T must have been nearly midnight. The lights in the barracks and 
at the old hospital beyond had long since been extinguished, and 
only here and there along the row of officers’ quarters and at the 
guard-house, suggestively planted half-way down the slope towards 
the post trader’s store, was there sign of wakeful life. One or two 
upper windows gave forth a feeble gleam, and there was quite a jovial 
glow pouring from the open door-way of the colonel’s big house across 
the dark rectangle. It fell upon the tall white flag-staff and displayed 
it from base to cross-trees, a solitary, ghost-like shaft, and then, with 
gradually diminishing power, illumined the gravelled pathway that 
bisected the parade and led from the broad flight of steps in front of 
the commanding officer’s to the major’s quarters on the southern side. 
Overhead the stars were glittering in an absolutely cloudless sky. Not 
a breath of air was stirring the forest down in the black depths of the 
valley to the south. Softened by distance, the rush of the river over 
its rocky bed fell upon the ear like soothing lullaby. Ten minutes 
earlier the sound of silvery laughter and cheery voices had come float- 
ing across the garrison, and half a dozen little groups had strolled away 
from the colonel’s gate, some turning to right and left, others crossing 
in the broad stream of light from his open portals. One by one the 
doors of the various quarters had opened to admit their occupants, a 
few lingering good-nights had been exchanged between gallant young 
bachelors and some dainty form enwrapped in fleecy burnous, and then 
even those night-owls the youngsters” had betaken themselves to their 
domiciles; one after another doors were closed, lights popped up in the 
second-floor windows, curtains were drawn, the lights enshrouded, and 
finally a silence as of solitude spread its mantle over the parade, and 
the corporal of the guard, leaning against the gate-post at the south- 


140 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


western entrance, bethought him how expressive was the sign the 
Indians made for night. 

He was of medium height, but an athletic, well-built young fellow, 
as any one might have seen as the corporal stood under the big lamp 
at the guard-house but a few moments before. He had a handsome, 
clear-cut face, with a good deal of soldier bronze about the cheeks and 
jaws; he wore his natty undress uniform with an easy grace, and 
carried the long Springfield as though it were a toy. The crossed 
rifles on his forage-cap, the buckle of his cartridge-belt, even the copper 
cartridges themselves, gleamed in the lamplight. The chevrons on his 
sleeve, the narrow stripe along the seam of his trousers, the Berlin 
gloves he wore, were all spotlessly white; and Corporal Brent was 
what the men were wont to call “ a dandy Jack,’^ though there was 
not a man in the troop-barracks at the western end of the parade who 
cared more than once to put on the gloves with the ‘Mandy.^’ Brent 
had speedily demonstrated the fact that he could outspar any man in 
the cavalry portion of the garrison, and that only Sergeant Connors, 
of C company, was able to beat him in a bout. In the little battalion 
of infantry Brent was a popular man ; so, too, had he been in the 
cavalry command that recently occupied the post; but these fellows of 
the Eleventh, who had but lately marched in, seemed rather slow to 
discover his many good traits. Very possibly they did not like the 
apparent ease with which he had defeated the champions they had so 
confidently sent against him. Still, it was a good-natured, not vindic- 
tive, sort of jealousy, — that soldierly rivalry between the two corps 
that seems irrepressible and that really does no great harm, — and Brent 
had begun to win friends among the troopers, who liked the frank, 
laughing way he had, when an order was suddenly issued by the new 
post commander the enforcement of which stirred up a row. 

As the last visitor left the coloneFs gate and he closed his door, 
thereby shutting out the broad gleam that, almost like that of the 
headlight of a locomotive, had shot athwart the parade, Corporal 
Brent was pondering over this very matter. 

Colonel Morris was a man who hated irregularity of any kind, and 
as the grass began to sprout in the spring he noted that it failed to 
grow along what was evidently a short cut between the southwest gate, 
the way to town, and the infantry barracks at the eastern end. The 
former post commander, a cavalryman like himself, had not paid much 
attention to this sort of thing, and the infantry had grown to look 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


141 


upon the short cut as a sort of thoroughfare sacred to their uses : no 
officer ever had occasion to go that way. When, therefore, the beaten 
pathway was ploughed up and re-sodded, and an order was issued that 
the men must confine themselves to the gravel path or the road-way, 
there were just a few old foot-soldiers who saw fit to grumble, and 
some of them, returning late at night from a visit on pass to the neigh- 
boring town, made sarcastic allusions to the new order as they trudged 
homeward under the windows of the officers’ quarters on the south side. 
Others still, trusting to darkness and a theory that all officers should 
be abed at that hour, proceeded to wear a parallel path, and these two 
transgressions being occasionally repeated, and the officer of the day 
having twice come upon the transgressors without having captured one 
of their number, — for the dough-boys” were fleet of foot, — a second 
order was issued requiring all enlisted men returning to the post be- 
tween tattoo and reveille to enter their barracks from the rear and not 
to cross the quadrangle bounded by the fence. There was a road all 
around in rear of the barracks and quarters, but in the wet spring 
weather it was often deep with mud and generally dark as Erebus. 
AVhat wonder, therefore, that many parties still managed to slip in, not 
exactly in defiance of the order, but because the enlisted men had a 
fine appreciation of that principle of international law which provides 
that a mere paper blockade is not entitled to respect? Then it was that 
the “ old man,” as the soldiers called the colonel, ordered out his block- 
aders. An extra sentinel’s post was established, a sentry was ordered 
stationed at the southwest gate from tattoo until reveille, and, as all 
the cavalry were barracked on the west side near their stables, and as 
the infantry were manifestly the oflenders (so argued the colonel), the 
three additional sentries required were ordered taken from among their 
number. This order made guard-duty a trifle harder and the infantry- 
men a trifle madder. Out of sheer mischief, some of them took to 
passing up the road between the guard-house and the trader’s, entering 
the northwest gate and stalking across the parade in stealthy column 
of files from that direction, facetiously decorating their trail with empty 
beer-bottles, whiskey-flasks, or sardine- boxes, over which the police 
sergeant spent some time and blasphemy after reveille next morning. 
Then the colonel ordered the northwest gate locked at tattoo, and the 
laughing rascals climbed the fence. He would not order out more 
sentries, but he gave the officer of the day directions to have a patrol 
in readiness at the flag-staff between eleven and one that night, and 


142 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


then some fine foot-racing resulted, in which the patrol came out second 
best. The colonel ordered the five infantrymen who happened to be 
on pass arrested and brought to trial before a garrison court, and the 
court promptly acquitted every man ; it was established that they had 
all obediently gone around the garrison ; they had even taken the 
trouble to call the attention of the sentry on No. 4 to that fact ; and 
then it dawned upon the commanding officer that some of those in- 
fantry scamps were, as they would have expressed it, putting up 
a job’’ at his expense, and that half a dozen of the fl 9 etest-footed 
among them were, just for a lark, slipping out of quarters after eleven 
o’clock and around to the northwest gate, vaulting the fence with the 
agility of monkeys, and then playing the old game of Tom, Tom, 
pull away” with his patrol. They had not had so much fun in a 
year. 

Colonel Morris had sense enough to know that if he lost his temper 
and got to blustering the men would regard it as a victory. He issued 
no new orders. Suspicion had fallen on a squad of rollicking young 
Irishmen in Company F, all of whom were members of the battalion 
base-ball nine. A match game was to come off two days later with 
the club from Fort Lawrence, and local interest — and bets — w^ere run- 
ning high. Alas ! when the morning of the eventful day came around, 
four of the fleetest base-runners in the Rifle Nine languished in the 
guard-house, arrested at reveille by order of their own captain for ab- 
sence from quarters at midnight. The colonel had simply let them get 
out, then ordered check roll-call, with doors barred, and they stood 
self-exiled. Fancy the consternation among the lovers of the national 
game ! Even the cavalry had backed the local nine against that from 
Lawrence, and well knew that if substitutes had to be put in there was 
no earthly chance of their winning. Manifestly, said the battalion, 
there’s no man but Corporal Brent to get us out of the scrape. He 
was captain and short-stop of the Nine, and on him they rallied forth- 
with. Give me your word, men, that there’s to be no more of this 
monkey business, and I’ll go to the colonel myself. Refuse, and the 
game goes to Fort Lawrence, nine to nothing, for we can’t play with- 
out Lynch and Cooney on the bases.” It was a case of unconditional 
surrender. 

The colonel had kindly received the young corporal, had listened 
to the tale of woe, and sat silently pondering a moment. Then he 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


143 


looked up. You say the game must go against you without these 
four men ?’’ he asked. 

Yes, sir. Indeed, I w'ould not play without them. We would 
far better let the game go by default than have the record published, 
as it assuredly would be, in the army as well as the local papers, with 
all the errors scored against us. This nine of ours has not been beaten 
by any team in the department as yet, and it would be an unearned 
victory for Fort Lawrence.’’ 

Colonel Morris sat keenly studying the young soldier’s face. He 
made no answer for a moment, and when he spoke it was of an utterly 
irrelevant matter : 

Have you not served somewhere under my command before this, 
corporal ?” 

The color sprang to Brent’s face. There was an instant of hesita- 
tion, then a firm but respectful answer : 

“ Nowhere, sir. I have been in the army only two years, and this 
is my first station since leaving the depot at David’s Island.” Then, 
as though eager to get back to a more pressing matter, If the colonel 
will not consider me as proposing a compromise, and will take it as 
it is meant, I can promise, I think, that there will be no more of this 
night prowling across the parade, on the part of our men at least.” 

Morris looked sharply up from under his shaggy brows : 

What do you mean ? What men would have any occasion to 
cross the parade but the infantry ?” 

I mean, in all respect, sir, that there may be men or, at least, a 
man who, having no occasion to cross the parade, will do so simply for 
the sake of making trouble. In plain words, a cavalryman, sir.” 

The adjutant, sitting at his desk, dropped his pen and looked 
quickly up, and the sergeant-major, going out with a bundle of papers, 
found means to halt at the office door, as though to hear what might 
follow. Mr. Mason, the adjutant, turned quietly, caught the sergeant- 
major’s eye, and gave a quick but expressive jerk of the head in the 
direction of the outer room. The sergeant-major took the hint and 
vanished. 

But the clerks had heard the corporal’s intimation that some trooper 
was connected with the transgression for which the ball-playing quar- 
tette were confined. The door was immediately closed, leaving them 
to draw their own inferences and make their own comments. They 
did not hear the colonel’s next remark : 


144 


AN ARMF PORTIA. 


‘‘ If any man in the cavalry is guilty in this matter, there is only 
one whom I can suspect. Can you name him 

Corporal Brent flushed again, but finally replied, I beg the colonel 
not to ask me to answer, when, as I said before, I have no proof what- 
ever.’^ 

Colonel Morris turned and pondered a moment. Finally he whirled 
about in his revolving chair : 

Corporal Brent, if these four men were of my own regiment I 
would certainly refuse your request. As matters stand, I will not spoil 
the chances of the Rifle Nine. They will, therefore, be turned over to 
you to take their part in the game, and to-morrow must stand their trial 
before the garrison court.” 

And when Corporal Brent left the office, infinitely rejoiced, the 
colonel turned to his staff-officer : 

Where do you suppose the recruiting officers picked up a fellow 
like that? He has the language of an educated man.” 

He was enlisted in New York,” was the reply, and I have fre- 
quently noted him on guard. They tell me he has more influence over 
the men in his battalion than any other non-commissioned officer; and I 
am glad he has promised that there will be no more of this night business.” 

And yet, two days afterwards, the colonel sent for Corporal Brent 
to say that the agreement was being violated. Three soldiers had been 
seen running from the southwest gate across the parade the night be- 
fore. The sentry had been taken ofi‘ on the strength of the arrange- 
ment ; the Rifle Nine had won the game amidst great enthusiasm, and 
there was a liberal transfer of Treasury notes in consequence. The 
infantry and many of the cavalrymen were rejoicing in unaccustomed 
wealth between pay-days, and applications for passes to visit town had 
been of unusual number. The four culprits had pleaded guilty to their 
offence and been awarded some light fine. The dough-boys,” fully 
appreciating the colonel’s consideration in the matter, as fully meant to 
stand by their promise to Brent : it was with not a little feeling, there- 
fore-, that they received the news that the compact was violated. 

That Saturday evening, in some mysterious way. Corporal Mullen 
of the guard sprained his wrist just after tattoo; and though Brent 
was not the next man on the roster, with the adjutant’s full consent he 
appeared armed and equipped at the guard-house and reported for duty 
as Mullen’s successor in charge of the second relief. Examining the 
list of men absent on pass, he made mental note of two in his own 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


145 


battalion and looked visibly disappointed when he scanned the cavalry 
names. It had been ordered that all men returning from pass should 
report at the guard-house, leave their papers with the officer of the 
guard, and then return to their quarters, those of the infantry battalion 
passing around outside the officers’ houses, those of the cavalry enter- 
ing their barracks by the rear steps at once. 

Three days of sunshine and breeze had dried the ground so that 
the paths around the post were in perfect order, and, except that it made 
their walk longer by some two hundred paces, there was no discomfort 
in obeying the order. The first batch of returning soldiers appeared 
about half-past eleven, surrendered their passes, and went quietly away 
to their barracks. Another squad appeared about ten minutes later; 
but there was still no sign of the two whose names Brent had noted 
and whose pass expired at midnight. It was then that the young 
soldier, with the permission of the officer of the guard, strode quickly 
over to the southwest gate, a hundred yards away. 

From here he noted the dispersal of the little party that had been 
spending the evening at the colonel’s ; here he had straightened up and, 
standing under the lamp-post, tendered his soldierly salute to Captain 
and Mrs. Lane as they passed in front of him, repeating it an instant 
after when a young lady, with dark, sparkling eyes, looked him quickly 
over as she tripped by on the arm of her escort ; and while the latter 
held open tiie gate of the brick quarters at the corner, almost within 
earshot, she inquired, — 

“ Who is that infantry corporal, Mr. Hearn ?” 

That ? Oh, you didn’t get here in time for the ball-game. Miss 
Marshall, or you wouldn’t have asked. That’s Corporal Brent, captain 
of the Rifle Nine.” 

Can’t we persuade you to come in a few minutes, Mr. Hearn ?” 
called Mrs. Lane, in her sweet, cordial voice. 

Yes, do come, Hearn,” chimed in the captain, ever ready to second 
his wife’s motion. 

The lieutenant hesitated an instant and glanced at the girl who had 
just stepped within the gate ; but, as she said nothing that seemed in 
any way pressing, he raised his forage-cap, and, pleasantly declining, 
bade them good-night and went briskly away. Opening her window 
five minutes later to close the outer blinds. Miss Marshall glanced down 
from above the piazza roof and saw the corporal of the guard still 
standing there under the lamp, apparently waiting. He looked quickly 
/ 10 


116 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


up at sound of the creaking shutter, then turned aside. The next 
moment, before she could fasten the blind, the sentry at the guard-house 
sung out, “Number One, twelve o’clock.” The corporal leaned his 
rifle against the fence, quickly extinguished the lamp, and all in front 
of the quarters was darkness. 

Down at the guard-house she could see the bleary light of the oil 
lamp and the dim form of the sentry pacing to and fro ; she stood there 
by the window straining her ears for the watch-call of the distant sen- 
tries far over by the haystacks and wood-yard, then nodded her head 
approvingly at the soldierly ring in the voice of No. 1, as he sung 
out the final “All’s well.” Peering through the shutters, she was 
wondering what had become of the corporal, when the latch of their 
gate clicked ; the rusty hinges gave a sudden squeak ; there was a rattle 
as of a falling rifle, a muttered ejaculation ; she could just dimly make 
out a shadowy form stooping to pick up the gun, and then cautiously 
reclosing the gate. Then, instead of moving away, there it stood, lean- 
ing against the fence. Evidently Corporal Brent had business there 
and had come to stay. Instantly she bethought her of the talk she 
had heard among the officers about the colonel’s order prohibiting the 
men from crossing the parade, of the implied promise that no more 
violations should occur in recognition of the colonel’s having released 
the quartette of roysterers in time for the great match game, and of the 
alleged violation of this contract. She was a young woman of quick 
perception : Brent had evidently posted himself there, to capture the 
malefactors should they appear. 

Quarter of an hour passed without the faintest sound from without. 
She heard Captain Lane extingnishing the lamps in the parlor below, 
and Mrs. Lane had come tripping up to her door to say good-night, 
but, seeing that her guest w^as writing, refrained from coming farther, 
though Miss Marshall promptly laid aside her pen and diary and cor- 
dially bade her enter. All was quiet within and without, and she was 
just about pulling down the shade, when, peeping through the blinds, 
she saw the dark shadowy form at the fence move quickly, stealthily 
into the road. The next moment there came stern, low-toned chal- 
lenge : 

“ Halt, you men !” 

There was instant scurry and rush ; a muttered oath ; two shadowy 
forms darted out by the gate, and, at top speed, their flying footsteps 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


147 


could be dimly heard rushing tiptoe around to the back of the garrison. 
But there was no pursuit. One man evidently had stood his ground. 

Where are you going was Brent’s question, in the same low, 
stern tone. 

“ To my quarters,” was the answer, in accents that were plainly 
defiant. “ Who are you? and wdiat business is it of yours?” 

I am the corporal of the guard, and you are disobeying orders in 
entering the garrison. Face about and go with me to the guard- 
house.” 

You can’t arrest me, by God ! I’m going right to my quarters. 
I’m not going to cross the parade.” 

‘‘ That will do. Face about !” Brent’s voice was heard. You 
know perfectly well that you disobeyed orders in entering that gate. 
What’s your name? — and your troop?” 

“ None of your damned business. I’m ’tending to my affairs ; you 
’tend to yours.” 

‘‘ I am ; and I arrest you, whoever you are. Not another word, 
now, unless you want me to use force.” 

“ Don’t you dare lay a hand on me, damn you ! I don’t recognize 
your authority. You’re not corporal of the guard ; I saw who marched 
on guard this morning, and you were not one of them. Get out of 

my way, or I’ll ” Then came sudden scuffle ; an oath ; a gasping 

cry. One man could be heard running with lightning speed to the 
gloomy outlines of the cavalry barracks, close at hand ; another seemed 
to dash in pursuit. Then came the sound of a stunning blow, the 
crash of a rifle upon the gravelly road, a heavy fall, a moan. Then — 
silence. 


II. 

There was a frown on Colonel Morris’s face on Sunday morning that 
boded ill for officer or man who could not come up to the standard of 
the post commander on the forthcoming inspection. The old order of 
things was still in existence, and a beneficent administration had not yet 
issued its ban against martial exercises of any kind upon the Lord’s 
day. First call for inspection in full dress had gone,” as the soldiers 
say, as the colonel appeared in the panoply of his profession upon the 
front piazza, glancing modified approval at the glistening surface of his 
top-boots and the brilliant polish of his spurs. Down at the front gate 


148 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


his orderly stood, every item of his dress and equipment a model of 
soldierly trimness. Out in the centre of the parade a little party of the 
guard had just lowered the storm-flag that had been hoisted at dawn, 
and were running up in its stead the great garrison standard, whose 
folds of scarlet and white lapped out lazily in response to the soft breeze 
now rising from the westward bluffs. Over at the barracks the men 
had come pouring forth, the neat dark blue and white of the infantry 
at the east side contrasting favorably with the glaring yellow trimmings 
of the cavalry battalion, swarming along the walk and streaming from 
the stairways and galleries of their crowded quarters, like so many full- 
plumaged hornets. On the verandas across the parade, helmeted officers 
and ladies in dainty muslins began to ap{)ear, and along the row to his 
right and left the sheltered jiorches were similarly occupied. But the 
post commander stood alone. Madame his better half had visitors. 
Breakfast was not quite finished, and she was devoting herself to their 
entertainment, knowing well that her liege lord was feeling in no mood 
for such light duty. 

Almost the first thing that the colonel heard on going down-stairs 
this bright Sunday morning was an animated colloquy in the kitchen 
between cook and his man-of-all-work, an old darky who had followed 
the family fortunes for years. Jake had learned from the police-sergeant, 
while he was at work on the coloneks boots and spurs, that Corporal 
Brent had been slugged” by somebody the night before and was now 
lying unconscious in the hospital. There was time only for very brief 
investigation before his guests came down. Mr. Wallace was ofiScer 
of the guard, and, in response to the message brought by the colonel’s 
orderly, had gone at once to his quarters and made his report. 

Somewhere about twenty minutes after midnight, the sentry on No. 
1 had called Corporal Werner out, saying there appeared to be some- 
thing wrong up by the gate. Mr. Wallace, knowing Brent to have 
gone thither, sprang up and went outside, and saw a light being carried 
rapidly from Captain Lane’s quarters, at the corner, over towards the 
cavalry barracks. Hurrying around in front, he got there just in time 
to see the captain and the young lady who had recently arrived. Miss 
Marshall, raising Corporal Brent from the ground. He was bleeding 
from a jagged gash over the left eye, and was limp and senseless. 
After having him carried to the hospital and arousing the steward, it 
was found that his face and eyes were covered with red pepper. Not 
a word as to his assailants could be learned. The last men to reach 


AN ARMY PORTIA, 


149 


the garrison were Murphy and Scanlan, two scapegraces of Company 
F. But the sentry on No. 4 declared they had come around by his 
post on the south side, whereas Brent was lying almost in front of the 
quarters of C troop, inside the post. Then, again, Scanlan and Murphy 
were both sober, and neither of them men who would be likely to 
assault so popular and respected a fellow as Brent. Indeed, both of 
them stoutly denied having had anything to do with the case. What 
was more. Miss Marshall had said that she heard the altercation, heard 
a scuffle, and heard, though she could not see, that the man ran toward 
tlie cavalry barracks with the corporal in pursuit ; then came the sound 
of a shock or blow ; then the fall, and, hurrying down-stairs, she had 
called Captain Lane, and, lighting his little hurricane lamp, she had 
hastened out along the road, the captain rapidly following ; and there 
at the foot of C troop stairway lay Brent, bleeding profusely. 

‘^It was some of our men that did it, sir,^^ said Wallace, regret- 
fully, ‘^and I’d give a month’s pay to prove it on them. I’d give 
more than that if I thought I could prove that no cavalryman had 
anything to do with it. 

Then the colonel had sent his orderly to ask the doctor how Brent 
was coming on, and the doctor replied that he was still unconscious 
and he really could not tell how the case would end. It was from this 
message the orderly had just returned. Old Morris was greatly dis- 
turbed. He had purposed having a review of the entire command, 
cavalry dismounted, and treating his guests to a stirring and martial 
sight ; but when the assembly sounded he had completely changed his 
mind, and so informed his wife. I’m all upset about this affair,” he 
said, and impatient to begin an investigation.” 

The band was ordered back to quarters; the captains were notified 
to inspect their companies on their own parades ; and, merely ex- 
changing his helmet for forage-cap and laying aside his sabre, the 
colonel strode over to the offlce, passing by the three cavalry troops 
that were nearest him, even cutting across the parade as though to 
avoid salute, and appeared directly in front of C troop, that was drawn 
up, in double rank and at open order, farthest to the south side. 
Lieutenant Hearn, temporarily in command, was engaged in inspecting 
carbines, but at sight of the regimental commander discontinued his 
work and raised his hand to the visor of his helmet. 

Go on, go on, Mr. Hearn,” said the colonel, gruffly. I did not 
mean to interrupt you.” Nevertheless, he who had paid no attention 


150 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


to the other companies plainly halted in front of C, and was scanning 
the men’s faces with eyes that were full of gloom. Next he strode 
around the right of the line, and passed down in front of the rear rank 
until he reached the centre, where the tallest men were standing, and 
where he fixed his gaze upon one soldier, a tall, slender, but muscular 
fellow ; he looked him from head to foot, but passed him slowly with- 
out one word. A sergeant file-closer noted that the fingers of the 
soldier’s left hand twitched and closed as the colonel approached, and 
that a lump seemed to rise in the brawny throat, but was quickly 
gulped down. There was no other symptom, though, and Lieutenant 
Mason, the adjutant, who had joined his colonel, saw that the man’s 
eyes never wavered from their look straight to the front, although he 
might have paled a trifle under that stern, searching gaze. 

Half an hour later, inspection being over, the colonel sat in his 
office, holding an investigation. The captain of C troop was absent 
on sick-leave at the time, and the command had devolved upon a 
young officer who had won a fine record in their Arizona days, and 
who was regarded throughout the regiment as perhaps the most prom- 
ising of all the subalterns. He was an excellent horseman, a fine 
tactician, and a drill-master of whom his men had become vastly proud. 
Under the mild-mannered sway of their captain, a war veteran of un- 
certain years, C had fallen about to the foot in proficiency in drill and 
horsemanship. But the moment young Hearn got command they 
began the turning over of a very new leaf. Little instruction of any 
kind except mountain-scouting had been imparted in Arizona, but when 
they came eastward, and old Riggs, their former colonel, made way for 
a much better soldier, discipline and drill began on the instant. For 
a few weeks C troop had to take all the raspings, and the men were 
disheartened as much by the jeers of their comrades as by the sharp 
raps of their colonel. Hearn, too, was fretting himself half to death ; 
but when his captain was taken ill and was compelled to turn over the 
troop to his subaltern, the youngster ‘Hook hold” in a way that filled 
Mason’s soul with delight, and that speedily enchanted the men. From 
being the worst, C troop soon challenged all comers for the right to be 
called the best-drilled troop at the post, and Captain Lane, of D, 
had cordially congratulated Hearn on the result of his excellent effort. 
The yoiing fellow had that faculty, in which so many are lacking, of 
inspiring the men with enthusiasm and interest; and by the time 
April was ushered in there was nothing the troopers of C would not do 
for their young commander. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


151 


Black sheep, they say, exist in every flock, and while fifty or more 
of their men swore by their lieutenant, and were proud to serve under 
him, there were perhaps two soldiers in the troop who seemed to lose 
no opportunity of defaming him. One of these was a man named 
Goss, who had long been on extra or daily duty as clerk for the quarter- 
master, and whose errors at inspection were of such an exasperating 
character that Mr. Hearn got authority to make him attend drill until 
he was reported proficient. This, of course, made Goss, who prided 
himself on his scholarship and superiority to the general run of the 
men, anything but happy ; and in his wrath and discontent he vented 
his spleen whenever possible to do so at the expense of his young lieu- 
tenant. The other man was a tall, dark-eyed, gypsy-looking fellow, 
whose name was Welsh, and who for several months, off and on, had 
preferred to be the captain’s striker,” or soldier servant, — take care of 
his horses, black his boots, polish his spurs and sabre, hew wood, draw 
water, make the fires, sweep the kitchen, run errands, and do all manner 
of small chores about the house, — than to do soldier duty with his com- 
rades. When the captain closed up his quarters and left the post, 
taking his family eastward with him, Lieutenant Hearn moved in to 
look after them for him. This was by the captain’s own request ; and, 
having no use for the services of Welsh, he notified that worthy to re- 
turn to duty with the troop forthwith. This Welsh bitterly resented. 
He insisted that the captain had told him before going that he was to 
stay in charge of his quarters and be excused from all military duty. 
Hearn replied that there was probably some mistake, but telegraphed to 
the captain and obtained immediate reply to the eflect that he had never 
given the soldier any such promise, and that he desired that he be now 
returned to duty with the troop and taught something of the practical 
duties of a soldier, which he had too long neglected. 

Plearn smiled to himself as he read this, thinking whose fault it 
was that Welsh had been allowed to live in ignorance of much of the 
drill, and wondering not a little at the change of heart that seemed to 
have come over the captain, now that he was fairly away. A smart 
young corporal was detailed to give the two men thorough instruction 
in the sabre-exercise and the manual of the carbine and pistol, in addi- 
tion to which Welsh was now required to attend all roll-calls, stable- 
duty, and drills with the troop, and take his guard tour every fifth day, 
and a disgusted man he was in consequence. 

As the captain’s striker” he had led a life of comparative ease, for 


152 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


that veteran officer had long since outlived any ambition to shine in the 
service, and looked upon it only as a means of livelihood. At the out- 
break of the war old Blauvelt was keeping a country store in Oliio, but 
dropped his yard-stick and sugar-scoop at the first call for volunteers, 
fought like a man all through the four years’ contest, was wounded, 
and, having risen to be a major of volunteer infantry, he decided in 
’66 to stick to soldiering, for at that time it was easy to obtain a com- 
mission in the regular service if a man had any Congressional influence 
or connections at all. When the army was remodelled by the drastic 
process in 1871, and, as a first lieutenant, he was dropped to the super- 
numerary list from the regiment of infantry with which he had been 
serving, Blauvelt decided that he was now too old to begin storekeeping 
over again, and so he made vigorous effort to be retained in the army, 
and, together with a few other men who did not know a horse from 
a hand-saw, was transferred to a vacancy in the cavalry, and there the 
placid old fellow had been ever since. 

Bejoining from the East with a batch of recruits, immediately after 
the arrival of the regiment from Arizona, Blauvelt had resumed com- 
mand of C troop, and had given directions that the tall, gypsy-looking 
fellow, Welsh, who was one of the new-comers, should be put in charge 
of his horses. Next he moved those veteran quadrupeds from the 
troop-stables to a little barn in the back yard of his own quarters. 
Then Welsh himself moved his kit” from barracks to a little room in 
the barn, and gradually became an inmate of the captain’s household, 
taking his meals under the captain’s roof, performing no duty with the 
troop, exempted from the authority of tlie first sergeant, yet spending 
all his leisure moments in loafing among the company quarters, where 
he speedily gained the reputation of being surly and insolent to the non- 
commissioned officers and a mischief-maker among the men. For a 
recruit who had only recently enlisted, it was surprising how much he 
knew about the ins and outs of soldier life. Sergeant Wren openly 
accused him of having been in service somewhere before, and, as he 
had no papers to show, he must be either a deserter or a bobtail.”* 
AVelsh angrily denied this, and his ignorance of sabre-drill and certain 
trooper details seemed to bear him out. ^‘But then,” said Wren, he 
miglit have been in the ^dough-boys.’” Welsh avoided the troop 
quarters for a while after this episode, and was more civil to the ser- 


* A soldier whose discharge-paper has had the “ Character” cut off. 


AN ARMY PORTIA, 


153 

geants, but right after pay-day he again appeared, eager to try his luck 
in any game going on. Then it transpired that, if not an expert with 
saddle and sabre, he was with the cards, and the troopers lost their 
money to him without exactly understanding how. The first sergeant 
reported these occurrences to Captain Blauvelt, and the old man seemed 
greatly vexed. It was established that Welsh had been neglecting the 
horses while playing his game, but he was not relieved and ordered 
back to duty with the troop, as had been expected. If anything, he be- 
came more insolent in manner to the sergeants than before. The whole 
affair seemed unaccountable to the other men. 

One morning about a month after Welslfs arrival at the post. 
Lieutenant Hearn came leaping lightly up the steps to make an inspec- 
tion of the barracks. Corporal Quinn, seeing him approach the quar- 
ters, had given word to the men, and those of them who were in shirt- 
sleeves jumped into their flannel blouses, while others knocked the 
ashes out of their pipes and put them away. Three or four were 
seated around a little table playing cards, and among these was the 
gypsy fellow Welsh, who had been there ever since guard-mount. 
These men, too, sprang to their bunks and straightened up some items 
of their kits,’’ but Welsh still sat at the table, grumbling at the inter- 
ruption to the game. Put up those cards, Welsh,” said a sergeant, 
bluntly. “ Here comes the lieutenant.” 

What do I care ?” was the surly answer. I’m not under his 
orders. He’s got no authority over me.” 

Do as I tell you, and be quick about it,” was the reply. 

Do it yourself ; they ain’t my cards. I didn’t put them there,” 
answered the man, with an ugly gleam in his black eyes, while he drew 
from one pocket a piece of chamois-skin and from the other one of the 
captain’s big brass spurs. There was no time for further remark. 

Attention !” came the order from the sergeant who happened to 
be nearest the door, and the lieutenant entered. Every man on the 
instant whipped off his cap, and, facing the middle of the long room, 
stood erect at the foot of his bunk, — every man except one. With his 
cap on the back of his head, his matted hair hanging down over 
his eyes, Welsh sat there at the table, coolly polishing the spur. 

‘^Get up there, Welsh !” growled in low, stern tones the first ser- 
geant. Off with that cap, sir.” 

For all answer, Welsh cocked his head on one side, and, apparently 
unmindful of the presence of an officer, became critically and approv- 


154 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


inglj absorhecl in studying the polish which he was imparting to the 
smooth surface of the spur. 

Did you hear that order? Come to attention, sir!” repeated the 
sergeant. And the men, astonished at the breach of discipline, looked 
curiously at the recruit, now slowly and scowlingly finding his feet. 
He had not removed his cap when the lieutenant stood before him. 

Why did you not rise with the other men, Welsh ?” asked Mr. 
Hearn, in a quiet and deliberate tone oddly at variance with his 
usually quick and snappy manner, and the young officer looked straight 
into the soldier’s eyes as he spoke. 

Didn’t suppose I had to,” was the sullen reply. 

Why not?” 

Well, Tactics say soldiers actually at work don’t have to rise and 
salute officers.” 

And what work were you doing ?” 

Work for the captain, — cleaning his spurs.” 

There was a strange silence in the room. This was a new interpre- 
tation, and for a recruit decidedly an original one. 

“Where did you learn that idea, Welsh?” asked the lieutenant, 
still calmly, though his blue eyes began to dilate in a way that indi- 
cated how thoroughly he appreciated the man’s defiant manner. 

“ Well, no matter ; I learned it.” 

“ You have had a very bad teacher, sir. Take your hand out of 
that pocket !” 

An ugly scowl had settled on Welsh’s downcast face. He had 
stuffed the chamois-skin in his blouse pocket, and still stood there in a 
slouching attitude, with his cap on the back of his head. Slowly, in 
obedience to the order, he lowered his hand to the side. 

“ Now take your cap off!” 

One could have heard a pin drop all over the big room. 

Forty men stood there in silence, listening breathlessly to this 
strange and unusual colloquy. Reluctantly, yet overawed by the 
steady gaze in the blue eyes of the young officer, Welsh’s hand went 
up to the cap, then tossed it angrily some distance away. If he ex- 
pected rebuke on that score it was not forthcoming. 

“ Now get your heels together and stand attention.” 

“ You’ve got no right to order me around like this. Lieutenant 
Hearn. I’m on duty for the captain, I am, — not for any second lieu- 
tenant.” 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


155 


For an instant every nerve and muscle in the officer’s athletic frame 
seemed to quiver. His blue eyes blazed with wrath, and his lips set 
firmly under the blonde moustache. 

There was a moment of death-like silence ; a gasp or two among 
the men. Sergeant Wren’s bronzed, weather-beaten face was a picture 
of amaze and indignation. Welsh himself, as though realizing the 
insolence of his language and dreading the consequences, had finally 
assumed the position of a soldier, — so far at least as his heels and legs 
were concerned ; but his head hung forw^ard and his eyes glanced fur- 
tively about the room as if in search of sympathy ; but there was not 
a soldier to side with him. 

“ Take that man under guard,” were at last the words that fell 
from the lieutenant’s lips. 

A corporal stepped quickly forward. Come on, Welsh,” he mut- 
tered, in no gentle tone, and led the scowling trooper from the room. 

The lieutenant calmly finished his inspection of the quarters, a red 
spot burning in each cheek, as he walked around from bunk to bunk. 
Then, as he turned away and lightly descended the stairs, Sergeant 
Ross’s voice was heard to say, “ Rest !” The men looked quickly 
about at one another. Some of them stretched their arms to full 
length and gave a long sigh, as though to find relief from the strain. 
And then little Duffy announced his opinion : 

By gad, fellers, if I’d been the lieutenant, I’d have knocked the 
top of his d d head off.” 

The garrison court which tried Trooper Welsh for insubordinate 
conduct had found him guilty, despite his statement that according to 
the Tactics he wasn’t required to get up and salute, he being at work. 
The evidence of the sergeants established the fact that he was playing 
cards when the lieutenant approached, and that the spur-cleaning was 
a transparent sham, introduced for the occasion and for evident pur- 
pose. But in view of the fact that he claimed to believe that, as the 
captain’s orderly, he was not under the lieutenant’s orders, in view of 
the fact that he had apparently been only ten months in service, and 
of the further fact that his captain gave him an excellent character and 
pleaded for clemency for the recruit, the court saw fit to let him off’ 
easily with a fine. Mr. Mason, the adjutant, and Mr. Hearn were 
strongly of the opinion that he ought to be returned to the troop at 
once and taught his duties as a soldier. But the colonel was away just 
then ; Major Kenyon, of the infantry, was temporarily in command, 


156 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


and he would not disturb old Blauvelt’s striker/^ Indeed, it seemed 
as though the troop commander was disposed to resent Hearn’s having 
ordered the man to be confined, though the young officer was actually 
in command that day, the captain being on sick-report. It is certain, 
too, that Mrs. Blauvelt made some very acrimonious criticisms of the 
lieutenant’s action, and that the first story in circulation in the garrison 
was by no means creditable to either his tact or temper. Welsh spent 
only two days in the guard-house this time, but his language during 
that brief incarceration was such as to intensify the feeling among the 
men that he was no novice in garrison affairs. He was loud in his 
threats against the lieutenant, and full of argument as to the propriety 
of his conduct. 

“ I was at work, by God ! and had ^ particular occupation,’ to use 
the language of the Tactics, and you’ll find it in paragraph 797, and I 
wasn’t required to rise and uncover. Look at it and you will see for 
yourselves,” he complained. 

. Ajid it was Sergeant McKenna, of the infantry, who retorted, — 

^^And where did you — a cavalryman — learn the numbers of the 
paragraphs in infantry tactics, Welsh ? An(} while you were about it, 
why didn’t you learn paragraph 803 as well ? that’s the one that covers 
your case, me buck, and, begad ! if I’d been there you’d ’a’ dropped 

that spur-r and got on your feet d d quick, or I’d ’a’ jerked the 

backbone out of yees. Where did you learn your infantry tactics, 
I say ?” 

And here Welsh could only redden with mingled wrath and con- 
fusion. From this time on the impression gained ground that he was 
a deserter from some foot regiment, and one who had again enlisted in 
the army, but under an assumed name. 

Witliin the week after Captain Blauvelt’s departure Trooper Welsh 
was twice again confined and brought before a garrison court. He had 
accompanied the captain’s family to the train, and, carrying Mrs. Blau- 
velt’s numerous bags and baskets into the sleeper, was borne away, ap- 
parently unavoidably. The conductor wired back that he had safely 
landed him at Barclay, a thriving little town ten miles to the east, and 
that he had abundant means to buy his ticket back; but he was. gone 
forty-eight hours, and at the expiration of that time was dumped in a 
dishevelled condition at the post by the town marshal, with the infor- 
mation that if it had not been for the crossed sabres on his cap he would 
have had him in the county jail for drunken and disorderly conduct 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


157 


and resistance to the officers of the law. Where does he get his 
money asked that official. ‘^He smashed about twenty dollars’ 
worth of glass windows, and paid all fines, costs, and damages, and 
yet had some ten dollars to spare.” The men in C troop could have 
told where he got his money, but, as that was won in gambling, nothing 
was said, by them, about it. Welsh was tried for absence without leave, 
and coolly pleaded that he had been carried away while serving his cap- 
tain and was then detained by the civil authorities. Lieutenant Hearn, 
however, testified that he, who carried one of the children aboard, ha(l 
ample time to get off, and that Welsh preceded him in getting on the 
train. The town marshal testified that Welsh was drunk around the 
village for thirty-six hours, but that nobody interfered with him until 
his conduct became so outrageous that he was compelled to arrest him. 
Welsh, therefore, was sentenced to a fine of five dollars and to ten days 
in the guard-house, simply for absence without leave, attending all 
drills and stable-duty. Three days later, while he was grooming one 
of Captain Blauvelt’s horses at the picket-line. Lieutenant Hearn’s 
spirited little bay, which happened to be next him playing with the 
trumpeter’s steed across the line, suddenly switched around with his 
powerful haunches and knocked Welsh’s curry-comb out of his hand. 
The gypsy fellow straightened up, glanced quickly about him, saw that 
the lieutenant’s back was turned, and then, with a vicious gleam in his 
piercing eyes, drew back his heavily-booted right foot and with all his 
force kicked the young bay in the stomach. Keogh plunged madly 
with the sudden pain, and in an instant little Dooley, who was groom- 
ing the lieutenant’s horse, had thrown down curry-comb and brush and 
smote the gypsy under the eye, knocking him up against the captain’s 
bulky and placid charger. In another instant, too. Sergeant Wren 
leaped in and separated the men, W’^elsh wild with fury, Dooley dancing 
about in a glow of righteous wrath. 

Hearing the noise, the lieutenant sprang to the scene. Silence, 
both of you !” he ordered. What does this mean, sergeant?” 

He struck me, the infernal little cur, and I’ll kill ” 

“ Not a word more from you, Welsh. What made you strike him, 
Dooley ?” 

Look at Keogh’s belly, sir,” almost sobbed the little Irishman in 
his rage and grief. See where he kicked him.” 

Sure enough, there on the glistening coat an ugly lump was rising 
and a jagged groove plainly showed where the cruel boot had struck. 


158 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


while Keogh still quivered and trembled. For a moment young Hearn 
was too angry to trust himself to speak. He stood there with his eyes 
fairly blazing. At last he turned to the sergeant : 

“ This man has been frequently cautioned never to strike or kick a 
horse, I suppose 

“ Every man in the troop has, sir, time and again.” 

Hearn slowly turned upon the scowling soldier: ‘‘It would serve 
you but right if 1 kicked you as you have kicked that horse. Brutality 
of that kind cannot be tolerated here, sir, and you will stand your trial 
for it. Take him back to the guard-house, sergeant.” 

“ I kicked him because he kicked me,” growled Welsh. 

“ It’s a lie, sir,” cried Dooley, bursting in. “ Sure the horse was 
just playing, like, and never touched him at all.” 

“ Never mind, Dooley : your evidence will be called for when it is 
wanted.” 

“ By God ! if I’m to be punished for hitting a horse, what’s to be 
done with him for striking a man, I want to know?” exclaimed Welsh, 
as with a curse he hurled his curry-comb to the ground. 

“Come on, you blackguard,” muttered Sergeant Wren, as he col- 
lared the man. “ You can thank God I didn’t see you do it. I’d 
I’arn you never to kick a horse.” 

It was this affair which led to Welsh’s third court-martial in less 
than a month. And it was Welsh now whom Colonel Morris believed 
to have been the assailant of Corporal Brent the night before, and the 
instigator, as well, of more or less of the mischief that had been going 
on. It was Welsh whom Mr. Hearn more than half suspected. It 
was Welsh whom Sergeant Wren himself had openly accused when the 
troop came back from stables Sunday morning. But when Wren was 
called into the colonel’s presence at the office, and asked what he knew, 
he was compelled to say it could not have been Welsh at all. 

“ What are your reasons, sergeant?” asked the colonel. And the 
eyes of the group of officers were fixed on the veteran trooper who 
stood so sturdily and respectfully before them. 

“ Because I went through the quarters just after tattoo last night to 
see how the men had been cleaning up for to-day. Their boots had all 
been carefully blacked, except the stable-boots, and set at the foot of the 
bunks, and their blouses and trousers, except the ones they had on, were 
brush^ and folded on their boxes. I took particular note of Welsh’s, 
for he was stubborn about cleaning his things; and about Goss’s, too, 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


159 


for Goss has been surly ever since he was made to drill and attend in- 
spection. Sergeant Ross says no man passed through the door before 
he went to sleep ; but any man who wanted to could slip out of a win- 
dow in his stocking-feet and go down the rear stairway, and then run 
down to Mulligan’s place just outside the reservation and get what liquor 
he wanted, and come back the same way. I was one of the first, sir, 
to get dressed to go out after Corporal Brent was hurt. The other cor- 
poral of the guard came into my room to get my lantern, and just as 
soon as they had carried Brent to the hospital I ran up-stairs and made 
an inspection. Welsh was there in his bunk, undressed, and apparently 
asleep. His boots and clothes hadn’t been touched. Goss was in his 
underclothing, half awake. There were his boots covered with dust, 
and in places still damp with dew. There were the trousers that had 
been folded, lying loosely across the box. Goss swore that he hadn’t 
been out at all, but 1 pointed to his boots and trousers, and when the 
man started up, as though in surprise, to look at them, a pint-flask half 
filled with whiskey slid from under his pillow.” But this was not 
all, said Wren. Scanlan and Murphy had admitted being joined by a 
trooper as they came up past the stables. He joined them again after 
they had reported at the guard-house, a trifle late, had given them a 
drink of whiskey from his flask, told them the coast was clear and they 
might just as well slip through the gate and run across the parade : 
what was the odds, so long as no one knew it? But the instant they 
heard Corporal Brent’s voice, they started and ran until behind the 
officers’ quarters, and then they noted that their cavalry acquaintance 
had stayed behind. They did not know his name at all, — could not 
describe him, for it was too dark : all they knew was that he was tall 
and had a thick, bushy beard. Welsh’s face, except the black mous- 
tache, was always clean shaved ; not so, however, with Goss.. He wore 
a full beard. 

At noon on Sunday, therefore. Trooper Goss was behind the bars, 
awaiting the result of Corporal Brent’s injuries. When searched at the 
guard-house, and his pockets were turned inside out, the corporal of the 
guard began to sneeze; and then it was discovered that some tiny, 
tawny-colored particles sticking about the seam were grains of Cayenne 
pepper, a small packet of which, half empty, was found lying in the 
road-way, midway between the quarters and the southwest gate. 


160 


AN ARMY PORTIA, 


III. 

It was a lovely May morning, and a warm south wind was blow- 
ing through the open windows of Captain Lane’s cosey quarters and 
billowing the dainty curtains of the breakfast-room. Down in the 
westward valley, close under the bluffs, a white mist was creeping up- 
ward from the shallows of the stream, and here and there among the 
furrows of the company gardens, and along the railway-embankment, 
little wisps of fog hovered over the soaking earth. It had rained in 
torrents during the night, but Nature emerged from her bath glowing 
in the rays of a sunrise that the officer of the day pronounced simply 
gorgeous, as he turned out for reveille. A man less joyous- hearted than 
Captain Lane might have found much to delight him in such a radiant 
morning. But those sunrises were old stories to this particular trooper, 
and though there was hardly a State or Territory west of the Missouri 
in which he had not turned out with the lark and welcomed in the 
new-born day, he seemed just as keen a worshipper of the sun-god as in 
the buoyancy of his boyish days, when, nearly a score of years before, 
he had first joined the Eleventh Cavalry. He was a man honored and 
esteemed in his profession. He was well-to-do in the world, thanks to 
the prudence and frugality of his subaltern days. He had hardly a 
care in the world. He had charming quarters, had a charming station, 
and he was wedded only during the year before to a woman whom he 
devotedly loved, and who believed that the world had never contained 
a man so true and tender and noble as he. A very lovely woman was 
Mrs. Lane, and a very sweet and winning hostess she made when doing 
the honors of her army home. There were those, to be sure, who could 
detect a species of nervousness and a vague anxiety in her manner at 
times, and there were people — there always are, worse luck ! — who 
could not quite forgive her her present happiness, or excuse it in her 
that, after having been wooed and won by, and wedded to, the Adonis 
of the regiment some few years before, she had again wedded, and this 
time the most eligible bachelor in the command, not much more than 
two years after the not untimely taking off of her first husband. No 
woman ought to be allowed more than one choice out of a regiment,” 
was the half-laughing, half-rueful remark of some of the army wives 
who had sisters yet unchosen. They thought Mrs. Lane had rather 
too much good luck, despite the fact, now well and generally known. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


161 


that her first marriage was a brief story of sudden disenchantment, of 
woe and wretchedness, of shame and sorrow unspeakable. Except 
among the women, the name of her first husband was rarely spoken in 
the Eleventh ; but, unworthy though he was, there were not lacking 
censors of her own sex to point out time and again how impossible it 
would have been for them, had they lost a husband in the army, ever 
to think of taking another in the same regiment, especially wdien it was 
known that No. 2 had been in love with her before she met the original 
conqueror of her maiden heart. That these remarks should in various 
forms come eventually to her ears one can hardly doubt; and that a 
cloud should at times overspread the tranquil sky of her sweet home 
life, no one who knew Mabel Vincent in her school-days could fail to 
understand. No one at the post, except her own loyal husband, dreamed 
of the tears she shed over remarks that, wilfully or witlessly, were 
repeated to her. He strove earnestly to soothe and comfort her. He 
redoubled his devoted and thoughtful attentions. Women at the fort 
simply raved over the lover-like ways of Captain Lane to his own wife, 
and never tired of pointing out to their respective lords and masters 
how tender and watchful he was. What charming little presents he 
was always bringing her ! Where did he get such exquisite violets, 
— such lovely carnations?’^ ‘‘Did you ever see anything sweeter than 
that locket he gave her last week ? It was an anniversary of some 
kind. She blushed when I asked her, but wouldn’t tell what. He’s 
always finding excuses for giving her something,” etc. And finally 
some of his brother Benedicks had come to him with gloomy faces to 
say that if he didn’t “ let up on this sort of thing” they would have to 
quit the regiment and the service : life was getting to be all one in- 
vidious comparison between his loveliness as a husband and their own 
individual shortcomings in that capacity. 

Several months had been spent abroad by Captain and Mrs. Lane 
after the quiet wedding which united them, and then, joining the regi- 
ment at the fort on its return from the Arizona tour, they speedily 
settled in their army home. For a while the delights of fitting up the 
quarters with all the beautiful rugs, curtains, pictures, books, and bric- 
a-brac they had brought from the East kept Mrs. Lane so busily occu- 
pied that she had no time to think of possible criticisms* But it was 
not long before the captain saw that the cloud he dreaded was settling 
on her sweet and winsome face. He did not need to ask what had 
been said to her : he could conjecture what that was full well. 

11 


162 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


Taking her to his strong heart, he had kissed away the brimming 
tears, saying, ‘^Something has been said to worry and annoy yon, dear 
one. I do not ask you to tell me ; but remember what I have always 
said : in nine cases out of ten, remarks about people sound very ditfer- 
ently when repeated by women — and by a good many men, too — than 
when originally spoken.” 

Long years of garrison life had taught him that in the almost end- 
less little tiffs and jealousies among the women, and the occasional 
misunderstandings among the men, people rushed to confide their side 
of the story and pour forth their grievances into the ears of next-door 
neighbors, with whom, as likely as not, they became in turn embroiled 
within the year, while the quarrel with the original object of their 
wrath had been long since forgotten. His own policy had been to give 
every man his ear, but none his voice, when personal matters were 
under discussion. But he knew well that it would be expecting too 
much of most women that they should simply listen and not tell. 
There were admirable and truthful wives and mothers in the little 
coterie, whose friendship he could have coveted for his wife; but one 
of the odd features of frontier life is that the impulsive rush for the 
intimate friendship of the newly-arrived army bride is generally made 
by those who are most apt to betray her confidence wdien won, and to 
give her unfavorable impressions, “ absolutely without having said one 
word against them,” of the very ones whose stability of character 
makes them most desirable as friends and neighbors. Lane noted that 
the women he most liked and respected were the ones whom she was 
making visible efforts to regard as he did. Perhaps had he painted 
them in less glowing colors before she had seen for herself, a very 
different result might have been reached ; for if a man really wants 
his wife to like another woman whom she has not yet met, the less he 
says of her perfections the better. Wisely Lane made no attempt to 
control her opinions, but, as his duties kept him away from the house 
much of the day, and as there was every prospect of the entire battalion 
being sent on a long practice-march during the summer, he was a trifle 
at a loss what companionship to provide for her during the inevitable 
separation. It was with genuine rejoicing, therefore, that he read one 
day soon after their arrival a letter from her brother which she silently 
handed him, and then sat watching his face as he conned its three 
pages. 

The captain finally laid it down and looked across the table, a kind 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


163 


light in his gray eyes. ^^You want to do something for her, don’t 
yon, Mabel ?” he smilingly asked. 

Indeed, Fred, I wish I could. She has had such hard fortune, 
and she is such a true girl. It is cruel to think of her now without a 
home, and, as Eegy says, without a chance of employment. I know 
the Woodrows would have been so glad to take her abroad with them 
as companion, but it’s too late for that.” 

Regy doesn’t say why she left Mrs. Withers, but I fancy I can 
conjecture,” said Lane. “ It was there I first met her, at a dinner- 
party one evening, — when I wanted to be with you.” 

“ And yet were abundantly consoled, as I have heard you say more 
than once, sir. Oh, she has told me all about it, too. Indeed, if I 
weren’t disposed to be mortally jealous of her wit and wisdom, do you 
know what I’d do ?” 

‘‘How can I divine, your ladyship?” asks Lane, his eyes twin- 
kling. 

“ I’d write and bid her come here to us, and I’d marry her to the 
nicest fellow in the Eleventh forthwith. Oh, you shouldn’t see any- 
thing of her, sir. I’d take good care of that. But,” with sudden 
change of tone and manner, “ wouldn’t it be lovely, Fred ?” 

“ Wouldn’t what be lovely?” this profound dissembler asks, though 
he knows exactly what she is thinking. 

“ Why, to have her come and live with us and marry in the 
regiment.” 

“ She isn’t very pretty,” said the captain, doubtfully, but with the 
tact of a Talleyrand. “ The boys might not admire her when Mrs. 
Lane was alongside.” 

“ Now, Fred !” exclaims Mistress Mabel, provoked and pleased at 
once. “ You know her eyes are glorious.” 

“ Hum ! Passably — when animated.” 

“ When isnH she animated ? She always enters into everything so 
heartily. She’s so full of fun and life. Why, she would make the 
ideal army wife, Fred. That girl can do anything.” 

“ Then why condemn her to marrying in the army, Mabel ?” 

But this question Madame declines to answer. She comes quickly 
around the table, and, with her arms about his neck, nestles her soft 
cheek against his bronzed and weather-beaten jowl, burrows under the 
heavy moustache with her rosy lips, and kisses him lovingly. 

“ Say I may, Fred,” she whispers, coaxingly. 


164 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


‘‘You may, a dozen times over. I think I rather like it,” he 
laughs, his eyes beaming with delight. 

“ You stupid boy !” She is shaking him now. “ Say I may write 
and tell her to come right away. Reginald can bring her as far as 
Kansas City as well as not.” 

“ She’ll spoil our tete-d-Uteii.” 

“ She won’t. She’ll be having her own before she is here a week. 
Besides, you’re getting tired of them already.” She says this, of 
course, to be contradicted, and is promptly gratified. 

The trumpet is sounding “first call,” and the captain is compelled 
to go. “ Do as you like, my darling,” he gladly answers. “ Any 
friend of yours is welcome; and — I think you might tell her that 
passes from St. Louis will be forthcoming.” 

And now, barely two weeks later, Georgia Marshall, for the second 
time in her life, finds herself an inmate of an army garrison and living 
a blithe and restful life after years of thankless toil. She was not 
originally one of Mrs. Lane’s intimates in the home of their girlhood. 
They had known each other as children, had gone to dancing-school 
together, but Mabel Vincent’s “set” was made up mainly from the 
young people whose parents were wealthy, and Miss Marshall’s father 
liad had to struggle hard for the wherewithal to “ keep the wolf from 
the door.” She was only seventeen when compelled to shift for her- 
self. Her mother had been taken from her years before. She had 
been a loving and devoted daughter to her sad-faced father, and had 
comforted and blessed the humble home to which he had been forced 
to retire after some disaster which involved all his savings. And here 
she worked and studied ; and here she gave herself up to the task of 
cheering his declining years until the feeble thread of his weary life 
snapped suddenly asunder and she was alone. For a few months she 
found a home in the army in the household of a relative stationed at 
the barracks near at hand. But, being determined to launch out for 
herself, she had sought the position of teacher to the younger children 
of a wealthy manufacturer and of companion to his wife. This she 
had held for a few years, sorely tried at times, yet never complaining. 
She had ample opportunity, at least, to read, to study, and to estimate 
character. Indeed, it was her keen perceptions that brought about the 
final rupture between herself and the wife of her employer, herself a 
distant connection. It was in the days of an early widowhood that 
Mrs. Lane found herself so frequently in Miss Marshall’s company. 


AN ARMV PORTIA. 


165 


During the winter the young widow had spent in the South her 
mother’s health was failing, and between the invalid and Miss Mar- 
shall there had sprung up a friendship and intimacy for which the 
daughter at the time could hardly account. But when letter after 
letter came, telling how the girl managed to run over almost every day 
and spend an hour or two reading aloud, and then when Mrs. Vincent 
began to intrust much of her correspondence to these willing hands, 
Mabel had learned to understand how unselfish was her devotion ; and 
after her mother’s death there arose between these two young women — 
the one widowed, yet cherishing a new-born love, the other a wage- 
worker and fancy free — a firm friendship which gained strength with 
every month. It was to Georgia Marshall that Mabel, sobbing with 
emotion, had first confided the news of her engagement to Captain 
Lane, and was amazed, yet rejoiced, at the fervor with which her friend 
had received the tidings. At last !” she cried. ‘‘ Oh, I am so thank- 
ful ! Pie has loved you so truly, — so long !” 

And so, when from brother Reginald’s letter Mrs. Lane read the 
story of Georgia Marshall’s final difference with her employers, no 
time was lost in demanding that she should come to their army home 
for what Mabel termed a good long rest. She was determined that 
Georgia should have just as good a time, just as much attention, just 
as many devotees, as any girl that ever turned the heads of the bache- 
lors of the Eleventh. For the week preceding the young lady’s arrival 
she had been impulsively preparing the young fellows for Georgia’s 
coming and sounding her praises to many a listening ear. Who would 
not listen to those pretty lips? And therefore there was distinct sense 
of disappointment among the subalterns when that much-lauded damsel 
stepped from the train at the little station and was rapturously enfolded 
to Mabel’s heart. Jim Wallace, who was Hearn’s especial chum, and 
“ Lazy” Lee, declared that the new arrival was plain as a pipe-stem, 
except that her hands and feet were particularly slender and shapely. 
And Mr. Martin, something of a connoisseur, declared that her eyes 
were the only redeeming feature of her face. But these gentlemen had 
seen her only at the station the afternoon of her arrival after a dusty 
ride ; and Hearn himself, being officer of the guard, was not presented 
until the following day. That evening, however, he was her escort to 
the little gathering at the colonel’s, and was far from content that she 
did not second the cordial invitation extended by Captain and Mrs. 
Lane to come in and chat awhile. 


166 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


But now, three days after her advent, as she comes down to the 
pretty breakfast-room, drinking in the soft balmy air that floats through 
the open window, Georgia Marshall’s face is by no means plain. Her 
eyes are deep, dark, full of intelligence and life. Her mouth is large, 
but the teeth are pearly white and beautifully regular. The instant 
she speaks or smiles there is transfiguration in her looks, and her man- 
ner is all unaflected grace and gladness. Mabel raises her sweet face 
to meet the warm good-morning kiss. The captain lays down the 
letter he is conning over, and the perplexed expression vanishes, as he 
cordially greets her; 

“ Well, and how did the heroine of Fort Ryan rest last night?” 

For every one, it seems, is talking of her pluck and promptitude, — 
of the oddity of the thing that she, a new arrival, should have been the 
only one to hear the brief colloquy between that unknown ruffian and 
the corporal of the guard, that she should have been the first to reach 
and succor the still senseless soldier, Brent. 


IV. 

Out along the grassy slopes the liveliest of trumpet-calls were ring- 
ing. Long lines of mounted skirmishers were advancing in mimic 
attack against the bluffs to the north of the wide valley. Assembly 
and deploy, rally and charge, followed each other in quick succession, 
and the piflf-paff of carbines far out on the eastern flank was answered 
by sweeping dash of whirling sabres and thunder of galloping hoofs. 
Here and there the bright hues of the guidons lent color to the sombre 
effect of service dress and treeless prairie. And along the bold crests 
that spanned the northern sky-line groups of gayly-attired spectators, 
where parasol and fan, scarf and handkerchief, seemed fluttering in 
constant motion, watched the busy scene on the flats below. Several 
buggies and carry-alls had driven out from the neighboring town ; 
three or four ambulances and Concord wagons were present from the 
post itself ; and one light open barouche, drawn by two stylish bays and 
driven by a dignified negro, was evidently a centre of attraction for 
many eyes. Herein were seated Mrs. Lane and her guest. Miss Mar- 
shall, with their near neighbors, the wife and sister of Mr. Wharton, 
first lieutenant of Lane’s troop. Several ladies from the fort had 
alighted from their various vehicles and were gathered in lively con- 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


167 


versation about the barouche. Others, seated along the crest, were 
watching the evolutions, and commenting, as is their wont, on the 
horsemanship or voice of this officer or that. Every now and then 
some town buggy would drive close beside the one stylish-looking 
carriage, and its occupants would gaze with much curiosity upon the 
party therein. As a rule, these gazers were women, possibly friends 
of some of the post people, and this was not a matter to be much ob- 
jected to. But one buggy, drawn by a gray horse, contained two men 
whose appearance Miss Marshall’s keen eyes had noted as they passed 
the first time and closely scrutinized as they came down the next. One 
was flashy in dress; both were loud in their talk and swaggering in 
manner; both were smoking cigars of questionable origin, and one of 
them had the unmistakable cut of the German Jew. Any one could 
place” him, even had he maintained silence, while, on the other hand, 
his coarse tones would in the blackest darkness have proclaimed his 
class. Both times they passed they stared boldly at the occupants of 
the carriage and critically inspected the team and appointments, — the 
second time driving close alongside and perceptibly slackening up to 
have a better look. Mrs. Lane flushed under such bold scrutiny, and 
the other ladies looked embarrassed and annoyed. 

Ugh ! those horrid men !” spoke Mrs. Morris, the colonel’s wife, 
who drove up just in time to catch a whiff of malodorous smoke. 
Who are they ? and what are they doing here ?” 

^^One is a Mr. Schonberg,” answered Mrs. Brodie, of the infantry. 
He used to be a clerk here at the post trader’s several years ago, lam 
told ; but he has his own store in town now, and they say he’s an awful 
cheat ; no one will deal with him, — from the post at least. I don’t 
know the other man at all. He is a stranger.” 

They are particularly rude in manner, it seems to me,” said Mrs. 
Morris. I wish the colonel would keep such people away from the 
reservation.” 

That man likes to be impudent. Captain Brodie says. He was 
put off the reservation some years ago and ordered never to come on 
again. He was caught smuggling liquor to the men, and had been for 
months lending them money at scandalous interest, and every one knew, 
and knows now, that he has the worst kind of influence on them. In- 
deed, Mrs. Morris, I wish the colonel would keep him out, although I 
suppose some of the men — the most vicious among them — would go to 
his place in town whenever they wanted money or liquor. He prob- 


168 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


ably ventures out here because the Eleventh has just come to the gar- 
rison and he supposes Colonel Morris to be in ignorance of his character 
and of the orders that had been given by his predecessor. Major Kenyon 
knows him well enough ; and the colonel of the — th Cavalry gave 
strict orders that he should not be allowed even to cross the bridge. 
But then none of your regiment know him, I suppose.’’ 

Mr. Hearn knows him, Mrs. Brodie,” promptly spoke a young 
lady who wore not inconspicuously the gold crossed rifles of the in- 
fantry. 

Why, how can that be, when he has been here no longer than the 
other officers of the Eleventh ?” was the immediate reply. 

He was stationed here the winter following his graduation. He 
was still an additional second lieutenant then. You remember he did 
not get his promotion to the Eleventh until nearly a year after he left 
the Point. At least that is what Mr. McDonough says.” And, Mr. 
McDonough being the owner of the crossed rifles, the damsel blushes 
becomingly. 

Oh, I remember,” answered Mrs. Morris. Mr. Hearn told us 
he had been stationed here for one winter; but he didn’t seem to like 
it much then.” 

‘^Wasn’t Mr. Hearn a little wild in those days?” inquired Mrs. 
Brodie. “ It seems to me I have heard as much from some of the 
towns-people. You’ve no idea what gossips they are. Why, I’ve 
learned ever so much about your predecessors, the — th, that I never 
dreamed of before they left. A good deal about Mr. Hearn, too.” 
And the lady looks tentatively at Mrs. Lane, as though inviting further 
question. But, glancing an instant from that young matron’s flushing 
face, she finds Miss Marshall’s big dark eyes fixed upon her with a 
scrutinizing, penetrating expression that in some way disheartens her. 
“I beg pardon, though,” she hastens to say : ‘^I think I have heard 
Mr. Hearn and Captain Lane were particular friends. Of course all 
this happened long ago, and he has probably outlived his youthful 
propensities.” 

I never heard of Mr. Hearn as anything but a most dutiful and 
excellent officer,” said Mrs. Lane, quietly. ‘^Captain Lane is very- 
fond of him.” 

Certainly, if he had been a dissipated man, or a gambler, or — any- 
thing else,” says Mrs. Morris, with proper spirit, ^‘my husband would 
have been apt to know it ; but ” 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


169 


it wasn’t that,” interposed Mrs. Brodie. And just at this 
instant three or four officers came cantering up the slope, taking ad- 
vantage of a brief rest to pay their devoirs to the fair spectators. 

Miss Marshall noted that, as this group approached, the buggy with 
its objectionable occupants drove slowly away in the direction of the 
fort. Half an hour later, as they were bowling rapidly homeward 
over the hard prairie road, they came upon the infantry battalion, also 
skirmishing. Everybody but the guard seemed out at drill, and the 
post was practically deserted. Entering the garrison limits, Cassius, 
the colored coachman, guided his bays down the slope between the 
guard-house and the post trader’s store and then up the incline to the 
southwest gate, preferring this road to going along the garrison in front 
of the barracks of the men. The ladies were chatting blithely, but 
both Miss Marshall and Miss Wharton noted that the buggy with the 
gray horse was halted at the store railing, and at the door stood the 
two men in civilian dress and a third in the undress uniform of the 
cavalry. All three stared intently at the occupants of the barouche 
with that singular expression of mingled impudence and familiarity 
which is so marked a characteristic of the street loafers always hanging 
about the corners of certain thoroughfares of our W estern cities where 
the police are not yet instructed in those rules of civilization which re- 
quire such parties to be moving on. As the ladies were whirled by, 
Mr. Schonberg was seen to wink expressively, and the soldier, a dark- 
faced, beetle-browed fellow, with his hands in his pockets, looked after 
them and grinned. 

‘‘ How annoyed Mr. Hearn would be,” said Miss Wharton, if he 
could have seen that performance !” 

What do you mean, Lucy? Those horrid men again?” asked 
her sister, who, being on the back seat with Mrs. Lane, had not seen 
the soldier’s face after they passed him by. 

^‘The men are impertinent, certainly ; one expects nothing better 
of that class of people ; but all the soldiers are so respectful and cour- 
teous to our ladies, generally, it is a pleasure to meet them. Haven’t 
you noticed how different they are from — well, from that one, Miss 
Marshall ?” 

Yes, indeed, not only here, but in the old artillery barracks where 
I once visited. I am sure Mrs. Curtis, my cousin, knew the name of 
every man in the two batteries, and always had a pleasant word for 
them wdien we met. They always took off their caps, though some of 


170 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


the old sergeants, to be sure, saluted just as they would to an officer. 
This man was a contrast to the general rule.’’ 

Perhaps he is not of our regiment,” suggested Mrs. Lane, and 
does not know the ladies.” 

Unluckily he is of ‘ ours,’ ” said Mrs. Wharton. That is Welsh, 
of C troop, and he was Captain Blauvelt’s ‘striker.’ Mr. Wharton 
says he is a bad character, and that there was something very strange 
about the way the captain kept him by him all the time he was here. 
Why isn’t he at drill, I wonder?” 

“ Possibly he’s on guard,” said Mrs. Lane. “ The guard-house is 
only a stone’s-throw away.” 

“ He’s never far from the guard-house,” laughed Mrs. Wharton, as 
she sprang from the carriage at the Lanes’ gate. “ But he’s not on 
guard to-day, unless he has taken off his belts. There ! they have 
gone in to the bar. How I wish the colonel would close that place !” 

Half an hour later, all in a glow after their rapid drill, four or five 
young officers strode, laughing and chatting, into the club-room at the 
store, and, throwing off belts, caps, and gauntlets, proceeded to bury 
their moustaches in the foaming glasses of cool beer which the attendant 
promptly supplied. Over on the other side of the establishment loud 
voices could be heard in animated talk, and presently Lieutenant Lee 
called out to the attendant to close the door leading over into the bar. 
Mr. Stone, the trader, entered at the moment, looking a trifle vexed. 

“Those men are making quite a racket in there. Stone. Who are 
they ?” asked the lieutenant. 

“A couple of fellows from town, and Welsh, of C troop.” 

“ Welsh !” exclaimed Mr. Hearn, who was glancing over the pages 
of a late paper. “ Why, he has no business here ! That man is on 
sick-report, under the doctor’s care. Has he been drinking?” 

“They’ve all been drinking, more or less. If I had known Welsh 
was on sick-report I would have told Billy not to sell him anything.” 

“ Why, that man was told that he must stay in quarters all the 
time the command was at drill. It’s a rule in the troop when a man 
is excused from any duty he must remain in quarters during the per- 
formance of it. Just tell him to step outside,” said the lieutenant. 
“ Say I wish to see him.” And, picking up his cap and gauntlets, Mr. 
Hearn strolled from the room and went around to the east front. There, 
through the open door- way, the conversation within became distinctly 
audible, and Captain Brodie, of the infantry, who was officer of the 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


171 

day, returning from his morning inspection of the sentries down about 
the wood-yards, hearing the loud talk, turned and came rapidly over 
towards the store. 

‘‘Who do you say wants me?’’ Welsh’s voice was heard to ask, as 
he stood unsteadily at the bar. 

“ The lieutenant, — Lieutenant Hearn, man : he’s waiting for you 
outside,'” said the bar-tender, in tones that plainly told his anxiety. 

“ He be d d ! I ain’t under his orders. I’m on sick-report. 

The post surgeon is the only man who can give me orders to-day, and 
don’t you forget it.” 

“Go instantly, Welsh, or I’ll call for the guard,” said Mr. Stone. 
“You’re more than half drunk now. — Don’t give that man another 
drop, Kirby. — Go at once, Welsh.” And now Lieutenant Hearn’s 
erect figure appeared at the door-way. 

“ Welsh, come here,” was all he said. 

Slowly and with surly mien the soldier turned, glowering at his 
superior, set down the glass, and then slouched across the floor toward 
the young officer, but halted short of the door-way. 

“ Come out here, sir,” said the lieutenant, sternly, stepping a little 
to one side. 

“ What for? I ain’t on duty to-day,” was the sullen answer. 

“ No arguments, Welsh. We’ve had too much of that from you. 
Go instantly to your quarters, and stay there. You got excused from 
drill on account of illness, and you know perfectly well the troop rule. 
You have no business to leave the barracks, much less to be drinking 
here.” 

“The doctor didn’t give me any such orders,” muttered Welsh, 
still hanging back, “and he’s my commanding officer to-day.” 

For all answer Mr. Hearn sprang quickly forward, grasped the 
coat-collar of the soldier in a muscular hand, and, without violence, but 
with quick determination, marched him forth into the sunshine. 

“ By G — d, lieutenant, you’ll pay for this !” screamed Welsh. “ I 
don’t allow any man to lay hands on me.” And then, the instant he 
was released, he turned and shook his clinched fist at his young supe- 
rior. Before another word could be said, the corporal of the guai\l 
with a couple of men, answering the signal of the officer of the day, 
came bounding to the spot. 

“ Take that man to the guard-house,” said Captain Brodie, boiling 


172 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


over with indignation. — I'll attend to this case, Mr. Hearn. I wit- 
nessed the whole thing.^^ 

And, swearing and struggling in the grasp of the guard, Welsh 
was led away. Brodie saw him safely landed in the guard-room, then 
turned back to the store. The two civilians, who had silently witnessed 
this scene, were exchanging significant glances from time to time, ancj 
some low-whispered words. “ His name’s Brodie,” Schdnberg was 
heard to say. “ You’ve got Hearn.” But when the officer of the day 
reappeared at the door-way they turned their backs and were a[)parently 
absorbed in the discussion of the cocktails which the barkeeper some- 
what grudgingly set before them. Brodie took a good look at the 
pair, but, as they carefully refrained from showing their faces, he re- 
mained but a moment at the door-way, and then, with a dissatisfied 
shake of the head, turned and walked over toward the garrison. 

The trumpet was loudly pealing orderly call a few minutes later as 
the men came marching up from stables, their sabres clanking and 
their spurred heels ringing along the road. The instant the ranks 
were broken in front of the barracks a rush was made by dozens of 
their number for the cool refreshment of the trader’s beer, and the bar 
was speedily crowded with their stalwart, dust-covered forms and ring- 
ing with their jovial voices. Some of them looked askance at the 
strangers, but Schonberg assumed an air of joyous good-fellowship. 

Just in time, boys,” he called aloud. “ Come right up and have 
it with me. Here, Billy, ask all these gentlemen to take a glass of 
beer. I always swore by the cavalry, anyhow ; didn’t I, Billy ? That’s 
right, boys: fill ’em all up; and when you get into town come around 
and see my place.” And with that he began distributing printed 
business-cards among them. 

Some of the men accepted the cards and the proffered hospitality; 
others seemed to hang back. One or two non-commissioned officers 
drew away to one side by themselves and signalled to the barkeeper 
that they wished to be served privately and not included in the Israel- 
ite’s treat. 

Meantime, Captain Brodie had gone in search of the commanding 
officer. The roll of the drum and the peal of the trumpet sounding 
mess-call speedily emptied the bar of the blue-bloused throng. But 
Mr. Schonberg and his companion had been drinking just enough to 
be aggressively hospitable. The next thing that Kirby knew^ the 
former was lurching around the building with his friend in tow, and, 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


173 

to his consternation, made as straight as liis legs would permit for the 
door of the officers’ club-room. Three or four of the young gentle- 
men were still there, sipping shandygaff” and glancing through the 
papers. These looked up in evident surprise at the flushed features 
and flashy attire of the stranger who so confidently and jovially en- 
tered, his companion following closely in his wake. 
m ‘^G’mornin’, gen’lem’n,” exclaimed Mr. Schonberg, holding forth 
a pudgy hand and beaming effusively upon Lieutenant Lee. Wel- 
come to Fort Ryan, gen’lem’n. Permit me to ’ntr’duce m’self : Mr. 
Levi Schonberg; ’n thiz’s my partic-ic-Fr frien’, Mr. Abrams, — Mr. 
Abrams, of Chicago, gen’lem’n. Miss’r Abrams, thiz’s my frien’ — 
Lieuten’nt — I — I didn’t catch y’r name, sir.” 

My name is Lee,” said that young gentleman, shortly, and with- 
drawing the hand of which Mr. Schonberg had possessed himself. 

Lee, — Lieutenant Lee, of the Eleventh Cavalry, Mr. Abrams. 
Gen’lem’n, I knew all your old frien’s of the — ^th that was here. We 
were very intimate, all of us, and — excuse me, I didn’t catch y-your 
name, sir,” turning now on Lieutenant Martin. Gen’lem’n, we’re 
just going to open a quart bottle — my ’xpense. Here, Billy, you son 
of a gun, bring in the champagne-glasses, — the best you’ve got. Pom- 
mery Sec — Pommery Sec’s my wine, gen’lem’n ; but if you prefer any 

other s-say so. W-w-what will you have, Mr. — Mr. ?” 

don’t drink at all, thank you,” said Mr. Wallace, briefly. 

Come, Martin, going up to luncheon ?” he said, turning shortly from 
the pair of invaders. 

Don’t go yet, gen’lem’n. Just one glash champagne, — ^good- 
fellowship, you know. Hope I don’t ’fend?” 

Not a particle, sir ; not a particle,” said Martin. “ Only you will 
have to excuse us. We can’t drink and shoot too, you know. We’ve 
got to be on the rifle-range in half an hour. — Coming, Lee ?” Mr. Lee 
had risen, and was about to move, when Mr. Schonberg threw his arm 
over the young gentleman’s shoulders, striving to detain him. 

Kindly remove your arm, Mr. — Mr. whatever your name 

may be,” said Lee, his brows knitting and his mouth setting angrily. 
‘‘I object to drinking champagne in the morning, and to being em- 
braced by strangers at any time.” 

But at this moment Mr. Stone, the post trader, came hurrying in. 
He looked aghast when he caught sight of what was going on. Spring- 
ing forward, he seized the Israelite roughly by the arm. 


174 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


^^Come out of this, Schonberg,” he ordered. ^^Yoii know per- 
fectly well youVe got no right whatever to come on this reservation, 
much less in this room.” 

<< Pray do not disturb the gentlemen, Mr. Stone,” said Martin. 

We will gladly vacate in their favor.” 

Don^t you attempt to put me out of here. Stone,” shouted the 
Jew. ‘‘I know you. I know what Pm about. You just touch me 

or let anybody else here in this d d cowardly hole, and you’ll see 

what’ll happen.” 

The three officers had silently left the room, and were now quietly 
walking away from the building ; but at the sound of a scuffle Lee 
stopped short. 

“ Here,” he said, those men are drunk and may do harm. We 
mustn’t leave Stone in the lurch.” 

What’s the trouble?” queried Mr. Hearn, who had been inspect- 
ing the dinner of his troop and now came hurrying down the slope 
from the barracks. At this very instant, too, Schonberg came backing 
out of the club-room door, shaking his fist at Stone, who silently and 
yet threateningly followed ; and Schonberg’s voice was shrill with 
rage. Behind them both, his hands in the pockets of his spring over- 
coat, saying not one word, but glancing quickly about from man to 
man, followed Mr. Abrams, of Chicago. 

Mr. Hearn,” said Stone, you were here before I came, and you 
know this man : were not the orders given that he should never again 
show his face on the reservation, and that he should be put off if he 
came ?” 

‘‘ Exactly,” answered Hearn. And the sooner you leave it now, 
Mr. Schonberg, the better it will be for you.” 

‘^I’m minding my own business.” (He called it ^'peeznez.”) 

You mind yours. Maybe you think I’ve forgot you; but I’ll show 
you. I’ve had it in for you ever since four years ago, young feller, 
and just you keep away now, and don’t you interfere, or you'll catch it 
where you don’t expect it.” 

I’ll give you thirty seconds to get in that buggy and drive off, 
Mr. Schonberg,” was Hearn’s reply. ‘^Unless you want to be hauled 
out by the guard, you will start at once. It isn’t the first time I’ve 
found you stirring up insubordination here.” 

Schonberg reached his buggy, but kept up his furious language. 
His companion, still silent, scrambled in, his restless eyes wandering 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


175 


from face to face. The thirty seconds were well-nigh gone when the 
Jew, aided by Stone’s supporting arm, lurched into his seat and picked 
up the reins. Shaking the whip over Stone’s head, he shrieked so that 
all could hear, — 

By G — d ! you may dink you’ve heard the last of dis — dis out- 
rage; but you’ll see! you’ll see I If you don’t get roasted for dis, 
dare ain’t any newspapers in dis country. I got yoar name down four 
years ago, Mr. Second Lieutenant Hearn, and now, by G — d 1 you’ll 
see ” 

And then, with an angry lash of his whip upon the flanks of his 
startled gray, Schonberg with his companion drove rapidly down the 
road past the stables. As they turned the corner, Mr. Abrams drew 
from his overcoat pocket a fat note-book and glanced back over his 
shoulder with a significant smile. 


V. 

An anxious group had gathered that afternoon over near the hos- 
pital. Corporal Brent’s symptoms were all indicative of concussion of 
the brain, and, though the surgeon said there had been no fracture of 
the skull, he was fearful that fatal consequences might ensue. Among 
his comrades of the infantry battalion the young soldier was by long 
odds the most popular and beloved man in the ranks, and that he 
should have been slugged,” as they expressed it, in the discharge of 
his duty by some scoundrel of a cavalryman, was developing a very 
ugly feeling at the post. Murphy and Scanlan had been sent to 
Coventry among their own comrades for having lent a willing ear to 
the wiles of the tempter and so led on to the tragedy that followed. 
Colonel Morris had ordered that Goss should be confined in a cell apart 
from the ordinary prisoners; but when confronted with the array of a 
dozen garrison malefactors, neither Murphy nor Scanlan was able to fix 
on any one of them as the man who accosted them the night of the 
tragedy and gave them drink at the southwest gate. Goss was like 
him in size and beard, they said, but that was all that they could 
assert. It was enough, however, to prompt some of the infantrymen 
on guard to scaring the })risoner’s life almost out of him. He pite- 
ously implored the officer of the day at his next visit not to keep him 
there, — the dough-boys,” he said, had sworn they would lynch him if 
Brent died, — and again and again he declared himself innocent and the 


176 


AN ARMY PORTIA, 


victim of some conspiracy. When Colonel Morris was informed of 
the threat, he decided to send the man to the neighboring town and 
the custody of the civil authorities, that he might be tried by their 
courts in the event of a fatal termination to the corporal’s injuries, 
but waited until afternoon before issuing the orders in the case. 

Major Kenyon, who had taken a deep interest in Brent for some 
months past, and who had recommended him to study for a commis- 
sion, was just coming from the hospital ward when Mr. Hearn, passing 
by the sad-faced group of soldiers who were chatting at the steps, came 
quickly forward to meet the field-officer : 

How does he seem now, major ? I had intended coming earlier, 
but was detained.” 

Just holding his own. I wouldn’t go in, if I were you, Hearn. 
I think footsteps only worry the doctor now. — There is no great 
change, men,” he kindly spoke, as the little knot of soldiers respect- 
fully saluted and looked inquiringly at him. He has a good fighting 
chance yet, with his splendid constitution. We can only hope for the 
best. — Come on, Hearn ; I want to ask you something. What’s this 
I hear about your having trouble with that fellow Schonberg ?” 

Oh, I had no especial trouble, major : he was out here drunk, I 
should say, and had got that man Welsh of my troop drinking, so that 
the fellow was insubordinate again, and the officer of the day ordered 
him confined. Then Schonberg, it seems, went into the club-room, 
and, after he had been treating the men to beer in the bar, insisted 
on treating to champagne and introducing himself to several of the 
officers wffio were there. Stone came in and ordered him out, and 
when I happened along, hearing the noise, he a{)pealed to me as to 
what the orders in his case had been, and, as I knew that he had been 
forbidden even to come on the reservation, I told him that if he didn’t 
go, and go at once, I would send some of my men to escort him. Of 
course he was very violent and abusive, but 1 paid no further attention 
to it.” 

D — n that villain !” said the major. “ He has done more to 
demoralize the men in this post than all the toughs and gamblers in 
the community combined. Our fellows have got to know him so 
thoroughly that the best class of them, at least, steer clear of him 
entirely ; but there was a time when a great many of them never went 
to town without getting drink or money at his place and having to pay 
very heavily for it afterwards.” 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


rn 


‘‘Oh, I knew him well the first winter I ever spent here,” said 
Hearn. “ He was clerk in the sutler’s store then ; and it was just 
before I left that he was discharged by his employer, who is dead now. 
Then he came prying around the barracks at night, bringing liquor to 
the men, and gamblers out with him from town, playing in the non- 
commissioned officers’ room, fleecing them so badly that they finally 
complained, and then the order was issued that he shouldn’t be per- 
mitted on the reservation at all. He had a friend with him to-day 
whom he was showing around and whom he insisted on introducing : 
Martin says he called him Abrams, from Chicago.” 

“ Abrams ! I don’t know anything about him, but the mere fact 
of his being here with Schonberg is enough to make me look upon him 
with suspicion. They were having a confidential talk with your man 
Welsh, I’m told. Now, what do they know of him? where have they 
met him before?” 

“ I can’t say, major : he was in the captain’s ‘ household brigade,’ 
and it is only recently that I have had anything to do with him. Of 
course he has been in and out of town a dozen times the past month, 
so he never lacked opportunity.” 

“ The doctor tells me you had to haul him out of the bar-room by 
the coat-collar, and that he threatened and abused you. Take my 
advice, Hearn ; don’t ever touch a soldier, no matter how wrong he 
may be. You should have called for a file of the guard if he would 
not obey.” 

“ I had no authority over the guard, major, and I had over Welsh. 
I simply stepped inside, collared him, and marched him out into the 
sunshine; then Captain Brodie came Ah ! here’s the colonel.” 

They had turned into the quadrangle at the moment, and came face 
to face with the post commander, who, followed by his orderly, was 
crossing the green parade, swinging his cane in the nervous and ener- 
getic way peculiar to him. 

“Mr. Hearn,” he said, in his quick, almost gruff manner, “the 
officer of the day tells me he has confined Welsh, of your troop, for 
insubordination and for threatening you, and that he had been at the 
store with some men from town who were forbidden the reservation : 
you know the men, I’m told.” 

“Only one of them, sir. I knew that Jew, Schonberg, the first 
winter I was stationed here.” 

“ Well, Captain Brodie says he also used threatening language to- 

12 


178 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


wards you. What does it mean? What could he have to threaten 
you with?’’ 

^‘Nothing, sir,” answered Hearn, promptly. At least,” and now 
the hot blood seemed bounding to his temples, — ‘‘at least nothing that I 
have any fear of. He is a blackguard, and I was utterly inexperienced 
when I came here, so that he got me into some embarrassment in money- 
matters at the time. It was settled long ago, and I have no idea what 
he thinks he can trump up now. He used to be clerk and attendant at 
the store here when old Braine ” 

“ Yes, yes, I know,” said the colonel, impatiently. “ It is odd that 
you young gentlemen will put yourselves in the hands of such people. 
Now, that fellow has been kept off the reservation all these years, yet 
here he comes again because he seems to think he has a hold on you, 
and dares to disobey orders as a consequence.” 

“ I protest, colonel,” said Hearn, flushing hotly, “ I am in no wise 
responsible for his actions. You can have the details of the trouble he 
gave me at any time, and I can show you the papers that long since 
ended the matter. He has no hold on me, sir, whatever.” And the 
young officer stood before his commander looking both grieved and 
indignant at the imputation conveyed in the latter’s words. 

“ Well, well, Mr. Hearn, I do not mean to say that he has any 
ground, only you young gentlemen cannot be too careful about your 
associates. Contact with such canaille as this must defile you just as 
much as pitch. — Now, Major Kenyon, how is Corporal Brent?” 

Thus having the last word, and having conveyed to the young sub- 
altern a distinct sense of rebuke. Colonel Morris abruptly intimated his 
desire that nothing further should be said upon the subject. So long 
as he chose to transfer his attention to Major Kenyon the commander 
could, of course, prevent further remonstrance ; but as Mr. Hearn stood 
there in evident readiness to resume his own defence, and as the colonel 
knew very well that he had hardly been fair to him, since Hearn’s 
character had been most exemplary ever since his joining the regiment, 
his better nature told him that he ought in further words to let the 
young fellow down easily, as the army expression goes. For reasons 
of his own, Colonel Morris did not wish to unbend, however, in pres- 
ence of the infantry major, his second in command. No sooner had 
he finished his inquiries than he turned to Mr. Hearn again : 

“ I do not mean to say, sir, that any reason exists tor that man’s 
threats, only that I consider it most unfortunate that you or any young 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


179 


officer should ever have put himself in the power of that class of 
people/^ 

Hearn would have retorted, but for a moment he could not find 
words at once respectful and convincing. The colonel, having delivered 
this final volley from his entire line, now promptly retired before the 
other side could rally, and, as though covered by the smoke of his own 
fire, tramped away across the parade, leaving the two officers gazing 
silently after him. The orderly, with hand to cap-visor, sprang briskly 
past the pair and stalked away in the wake of his cane-twirling com- 
mander. 

At last Kenyon spoke : “ Come, Hearn, when you’re as old as I am 
you’ll not fret yourself over glittering generalities like that. Every 
colonel, I suppose, is full of wise saws and modern instances and must 
shoot ’em off occasionally. I’ll be just as full, no doubt, if I live to 
be a colonel. It has taken me thirty years’ soldiering to get out of 
company duty, and the Lord only knows how long it will be before I 
can swap this gold leaf for the silver. Come along, man ; I’m going 
to Lane’s a moment to ask the ladies to drive to town this evening, and 
there’s nothing like the women-folk to help one out of the grumps. 
There they are on the piazza now, — the women, not the grumps. And, 
by the powers ! yonder comes young Lee in his riding-boots to ask 
Miss Marshall to try a canter.” 

But Hearn shook his head : I can’t go now ; I’m all upset by this 
thing, major. By heaven ! isn’t it enough to make a man swear, that a 
low cad like that can come into his daily life and poison the ears of his 
friends and associates with slander and innuendo, and that I have to 
listen in silence to such rebuke as that the colonel gave me?” 

Well, that’s what you get for being in the army, my boy. Three 
days ago you were taking issue with me at Lane’s because I said if I 
had my life to live over again the army was the very last profession 
I’d seek in this country, and you thought you loved it. Here’s Lane, 
now,” he continued, as the gray-eyed ca})tain strolled up and laid his 
hand kindly on the young officer’s shoulder. 

“I’m trying to pull Hearn out of the grumps. Lane. Haul him 
along with us, or he’ll be doing something desperate. You remember 
how enthusiastic he was three days ago, — loved his profession, would 
rather be a soldier than a railway magnate, wouldn’t swap his com- 
mission for a million in the four-per-cents. Fetch him along.” 

And between them, half laughing, half sympathetic, the two officers 


180 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


convoyed their junior towards the shaded veranda where were seated 
Mrs. Lane, Miss Marshall, and other ladies busy with their needlework 
and probable gossip. Miss Wharton was of the party, and there were 
two or three callers. They had noted the colonel’s soldierly figure as 
he tramped across the parade, and were quick to see the two officers 
coming along the gravel walk. Mrs. Lane half rose, and, smiling 
brightly, bade them enter. Forage-caps were raised in acknowledg- 
ment and salutations exchanged, but the trio hung outside. The major 
by this time was talking vehemently. Lane was looking grave and 
anxious. The same perplexed expression was on his face that had been 
noted at the breakfast-table when reading that letter just before Miss 
Marshall’s entrance the day before. Hearn’s face was clouded. 

“ How can they encourage Major Kenyon to be dilating on his pet 
hobby !” petulantly exclaimed Mrs. Graves. He is the most pessi- 
mistic, cynical, prosy old crank in the whole service, and will bore them 
to death. There, now he’s backed them up against the fence, and there 
is no hope for them . — Do come in here out of the hot sunshine. Major 
Kenyon : you can harangue all you like here just as well.” But Ken- 
yon paid no attention to his fair comrade of the infantry. For years 
the women of the — th Foot had made common cause against him, 
despite the fact that he was one of their most devoted admirers. When 
Mrs. Lane again called to them to come in and sit on the veranda, 
however, the captain calmly took his two friends by the elbows and 
steered them through the gate. Another moment, and the ladies were 
settling back into their seats, and the major had the floor. 

“ Yes, Mrs. Lane, I am a crank, as my good friend Mrs. Graves 
has doubtless told you : I have reason to be, and the crank’s wound up 
to-day. Your husband and Hearn here have been combating my views 

about the desirability of the army as a vocation, and I crave your 

pardon. Miss Marshall, for Galking shop.’ ” 

‘‘ I’m deeply interested. Major Kenyon,” responded that young lady. 

Go on, I beg of you.” 

Well, my views are founded on long experience, and not the very 
pleasantest. I say — and I say it after years of reflection — that the 
more a man may love his profession, the better a soldier he is, the more 
jealous of the honor and reputation of his cloth, the less can he afford 
to take a position in the army of the United States. AVhy ? Why, be- 
cause the great mass of the people have no conception whatever of the 
duties that devolve upon us, of the life we lead, of the trials we en- 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


181 


counter. In time of peace they think they have no use whatever for an 
army, and declare that we do nothing but loaf and drink and gamble. 
They are taught to think so by the press of our great cities, and, never 
having a chance to see the truth for themselves, they accept the views 
of their journalists, who really know no more about it than they do, 
but do not hesitate to announce as fact what exists only in their im- 
agination. Ever since the war these attacks in the papers have gradu- 
ally increased from year to year. Now, my home is in Chicago, and, 
naturally, I read the Chicago papers. I was five years tramping, scout- 
ing, skirmishing all through Arizona and Wyoming without ever seeing 
the inside of a city or even of a railway-car. We lived on hard tack 
and bacon and what we could pick up when we couldn’t get them. We 
lost many a good soldier in Indian battle during that time, and at last 
I got a wound that laid me up and sent me home. I hadn’t seen the 
place in seven years. My boyhood had been spent there. Dozens of 
my relatives and old school-mates lived there, and I looked forward 
with pleasure to the rest and joy I should have at the old firesides. I 
didn’t suppose that people really believed all the outrageous flings the 
Times and the News and the Sun and the Heraldy let alone the Trades- 
Union Gazette and the Arbeiter Zeitung, had indulged in at the expense 
of the army. But I had to wear my uniform for three or four days 
about the old home, and not only street-boys but grown men respectably 
dressed jeered and hooted at the dress that for years in the rebel South 
and all over the frontier had never been treated with insult. Old 
school-mates patronizingly asked me over their card-tables at the clubs, 
what on earth I could find to do with myself in the army, and why I 
didn’t quit it and come in here and try to be something. You know 
])erfectly well. Lane, that when you were recruiting in Cincinnati you 
had just such questions put to you, and you had been through one cam- 
paign after another for years. The general manager of the Midland 
Pacific, every mile of whose road through the Sioux country I and my 
men had helped to build by standing off the Indians day after day and 
having many a sharp fight doing it, — this general manager, I say, met 
me at the Union League and asked me how I had ‘ managed to kill time 
on the frontier,’ and remarked that it must be a very demoralizing life. 
He was out next day in a circular cutting down the wages of some twenty 
thousand employees ten per cent., but thought the rank and file of the 
army were treated rather like dogs by their superiors. A man, he said, 
must be at the lowest ebb of self-respect to enlist in the army ; as though 


182 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


every one of liis army of twenty thousand hard-working, hard-slaving 
men was not infinitely more at the mercy of a single official than could 
ever happen in the army of the United States. My own people, by Jove J 
were so impressed by what they had been reading for years in the papers 
of army life and array officers that they were perpetually urging me to 
quit the service and come in and begin life over again at forty-five, — 
clerking or something. Why, only ten years before, their homes had 
been rescued from the mob, after police and militia had been wdiipped 
to the winds, only by the prompt rush of the regulars from the frontier. 
Oh, they lionized the ‘shoulder-strapped autocracy’ then, and for just 
about one week it wasn’t fashionable for a decent pa[)er to lampoon 
them ; but the moment the danger was over their gratitude fled with 
their anxiety. 1 tell you, the papers that are sold for two and three 
cents in our big cities have to pander to the prejudices of the masses to 
keep alive, and there is no surer way of tickling the palates of the 
populace than by ridiculing or abusing the army officers, and in lending 
themselves to this the editors, of course, influence the judgment of 
])eople of a much better class, — the great middle class, so to speak, of 
the whole nation.” 

“ It isn’t at all so where I come from,” interposed Hearn, promptly. 
“At home all my kinsfolk are proud of my being in the army.” 

“ Ah ! you’re a Southerner, Mr. Hearn, and your people are all 
Americans. All through the North, however, we have an immense 
foreign population that has fled from the Old World to escape military 
duty. They hate the very sight of a soldier. Three-fourths of the 
peo{)le of some of our big cities are of foreign birth or parentage. The 
])apers seek their patronage, and in truckling to them they prejudice 
northern Americans against their own friends and relatives who have 
been idiots enough to become their defenders. It w'as bad enough be- 
fore the war, God knows, but it’s worse now. People wonder how it 
w'as that it took the North with three million soldiers so long to subdue 
the South with less than a fourth that number. Now I see nothing to 
wonder at whatever. The South has always respected the profession 
of arms ; the North has always derided it. Lee wdth sixty thousand 
Americans at his back, and only sixty thousand, knocked sixty thousand 
out of Grant’s overwhelming force between the Rapidan and the James. 
Lee’s sixty thousand had the love of every Southern heart to sustain 
them. How many of the North, think you, had no personal interest 
in that struggle? How many thousands of the North to-day care 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


183 


nothing whatever for that flag/^ — and the major pointed to the standard 
tloating over the garrison, — ^‘and only ask to be let alone to make 
money their own way? God knows, I’m as loyal a Union man as ever 
lived, but I don’t like to think of the new generation that has sprung 
up in this country: all soldiers in the South; all — what? in the 
Korth.” 

And old Kenyon, flushed, almost breathless, paused and mopped 
his brow with a silk handkerchief as red as his face. 

There was silence a moment. Captain Lane’s kindly features wore 
an expression half grave, half quizzical. Hearn had edged around 
nearer where Miss Marshall was sitting, and that young lady had 
dropped her dainty embroidery in her lap and was listening atten- 
tively. Something in the gravity of her demeanor gave Kenyon en- 
couragement. 

‘‘ Now, you. Miss Marshall, are accustomed to social circles in the 
North. Tell me frankly, now, did you ever hear men prominent in 
civil life express any other opinion of the profession of an army officer 
than that it was ra»ther a useless, dawdling, and unworthy occupation?” 

^‘In peace times, I presume you mean, major?” 

In peace times, certainly ; though the necessity for its existence 
then is as great. You recollect what Washington said : ^ In time of 
peace prepare for war.’ ” 

I confess that men who lead narrow lives in business or professions 
and never get beyond the groove are apt to say something of what you 
suggest, major. But men who think and travel, especially those who 
have visited our frontier, come back with feelings of much admiration 
for the army, officers and men.” 

Then I’ll rest my case with the men who think and travel,” said 
Hearn, laughing brightly. “Come, you old cynic, don’t make me 
believe I have no friends outside my profession, when it sometimes 
seems as though I hardly had one in it.” 

“Now, there you go, Hearn,” interrupted Kenyon. “That’s just 
exactly where you’re wrong. You would trust to the few travelled 
and educated men ; but what are they among the mass of voters, who 
know nothing of the army but what they read in the papers? Do 
you ever see anything good of an army officer in any paper until he’s 
(lead ? Never, unless it’s something put in by a ^ newspaper soldier ;’ 
and God save me from more of them. What could your thinkers and 
travellers do, even if they would condescend to bestir themselves in 


184 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


our behalf, — which they don’t, — as against tlie masses and the press? 
No paper in the land is so low but what it can hurt and sting you.” 

“ How? I should like to know.” 

^‘How? Simply by printing any low scandal at your expense; 
and no matter what your record or your character may have been, no 
matter how damnable a lie may be asserted of you, the mass of the 
people will read and believe, and your natural protectors — the generals 
and the War Department — will call upon you to defend yourself against 
even anonymous assault.” 

“ You do not mean that, major, do you?” asked Miss Marshall. 

“ I do, emphatically. I have seen officers time and again com- 
pelled to report to division or department head-quarters that they were 
innocent of allegations made by nameless scribblers in the daily press. 
I have seen the most abstemious men in the army heralded as drunk 
on duty by a sheet that withheld the name of its informant. But all 
the same the officers were called to account. When we were sent to 
aid the marshals in breaking up the whiskey-distilleries in Brooklyn ; 
when the first colored cadets were sent to West Point; when Chicago 
was burned and we had to shoot some prowling robbers to rid the 
ruined city of the gang that flocked there ; when we were hurried in 
again in ’77, and all the great cities of the North were practically at 
the mercy of the mob ; — at every one of those times, and heaven only 
knows how many times between, the press made scandalous asser- 
tions by name about one officer or another. In most cases there was 
no truth whatever in what was said ; in every case, however, the officer 
was compelled by his superiors to establish his innocence. By heaven ! 
I’ll never forget our experience in ’77. We were ordered to lose not 
an instant in reaching Chicago. The strikers had side-tracked the 
Ninth on one road and blocked the cavalry on another line, and when 
we stopped for water the railway-men attempted to leave us there. I 
put Lieutenant Nairn with a small guard at the engine and kept the 
strikers off, using no force, saying not a word, making no reply to jeers 
and insult; but the leading paper came out next day and denounced 
Nairn and me as being armed ruffians, declared we were both reeling 
drunk, and gave most outrageous details of things that never hap- 
pened. Of course, as army officers were the targets of this abuse, the 
article was copied in Eastern papers. Nairn was a man who never 
drank a drop ; had a magnificent war record ; was a general officer of 
volunteers, and a gentleman honored throughout the whole service. 


AN ARMY PORTIA, 


185 


All the same he and I were compelled to submit written denials to de- 
partment head-quarters, and all the satisfaction we ever got was that 
the editor said his reporter had perhaps been unduly influenced by the 
prejudiced statements of the strikers. Why hadn’t this occurred to 
him in the first place? Why didn’t he know that these men, furious 
at being thwarted, would say anything to revenge themselves after we 
had gone on our way? He did; but because just such sensational 
articles would make his paper sell among the masses, and because he 
knew that where the army officer had one friend he had a score of 
enemies, that was enough for him. Now, that, and a host of similar 
experiences, is why I say that no son of mine shall ever take up so 
thankless a profession. Of course if the country were in danger, the 
flag assailed, he would fight as I would. As for me, I’m too old a 
dog to learn new tricks, and having lived my life in the service I must 
die in it.” And again the major paused for breath. “ You tiiink I’m 
an extremist, don’t you. Lane ?” he finally asked. 

“ Perhaps so, major, although I admit that the press has been most 
unjust ; but I think we have more friends among the people than you 
give us credit for.” 

Not one bit of it ! You think the press knows better now and 
wouldn’t do it all over again. That’s what Hearn here would say. 
Now, you mark my words, gentlemen, so few are our friends in this 
country, — that is, in the North at least, — either in the press or the 
public, that any story at the expense of an army officer would be 
eagerly published by almost any paper in the land, and used as a text 
by hundreds of editors all over the nation to warrant a vicious stab at 
our whole array, and the people far and wide would eagerly read, and 
even those who declared they didn’t believe it would be influenced.” 

“I can’t think our people are such fools as to believe yarns that 
are evidently manufactured to malign,” said Hearn, stoutly. “ Every- 
body ought to know that it is from deserters, or dishonorably discharged 
men, or low camp-followers, that the reporters get their scandals.” 

Ought to know ! yes, I admit it. I have no doubt that the man- 
aging editors who publish the things do know ; but the people don’t. 
And now what has been your own experience, Hearn ? How can you 
blame the people for believing what they read in the papers, when not 
an hour ago your own colonel, who knows you well, virtually rebuked 
you because of the vicious ravings of as unprincipled a cad as there is 
in all Kansas ?” 


186 


ARMY PORTIA. 


And Georgia Marshall, looking up in surprise, saw the quick flush 
that leaped to the young soldier’s face. 


VI. 

‘^Fred, what did Major Kenyon mean by his reference to Mr. 
Hearn and some story about him ?” asked Mrs. Lane that evening, as 
the captain was locking up after their guests had departed. Miss 
Marshall, who was glancing over a photograph-album, closed it and 
rose as though to leave the parlor. 

No, don’t go,” said Captain Lane, promptly. I was sorry that 
Kenyon made any reference to the matter, but, since he did, I want you 
both — indeed, I think Hearn told me because he wanted you both — to 
know all about the affair. He had never mentioned it to me, nor to 
any one, I fancy, before, because there was no need. It was all settled 
some time ago, but of course he felt sensitive about it. He was a 
green young lieutenant when he joined here six years ago. This Jew, 
Schonberg, was clerk at the sutler’s. The officers dealt very largely 
with him then, for town was not as accessible as it is now. Tiie former 
post trader was a jovial, kindly sort of fellow, who was much liked by 
everybody, but he left his books and his business in the hands of Schon- 
berg. I have often heard how open-handed he was with his money, 
and how officers, and men too, never had to go to any banker or scalper 
if they needed money for an emergency. Anything a friend of his 
wanted was at his service. Hearn began as a good many boys of his 
genial temperament are apt to do at a big and expensiv^e post, — got in 
debt, for everybody wants to give credit to young officers just starting, 
and then the bills come in all at one swoop afterwards. ‘ Old Cheery,’ 
as they used to call Braine, saw Hearn’s trouble, and insisted on lend- 
ing him money out of his own pocket. It wasn’t a store matter at all ; 
it wasn’t entered on Hearn’s account. He paid it back in instalments 
to the old man himself, or was doing it when he received his promotion 
and had to make the long and expensive journey to Arizona. Except 
cadets when first joining, officers are not paid advance mileage ; tliey 
must raise the money as best they can, and it is mighty hard on a 
young lieutenant. ‘ Old Cheery,’ of course, advanced Hearn another 
two hundred dollars. The first was paid, all but fifty of it, and he 
told the boy when he left that he had taken a big liking to him, and 
that he could just return that at his convenience ; but Hearn never lost 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


187 


a day after getting to his new post and obtaining his mileage, but 
bought a draft for two hundred dollars and sent it to the old man at 
once, and said in his letter that he would remit the balance of the 
account and his store bill just as soon as possible. ‘ Old Cheery^ was a 
man who never wrote letters, but Hearn got a line from his wife, say- 
ing that Mr. Braine had received his pleasant letter with its enclosure 
and sent his best wishes. A few months afterwards the old man sud- 
denly died ; the widow moved to town ; a new trader came mid took 
the store ; and when Hearn sent his next remittance of fifty dollars to 
the widow he was surprised in the course of a few months afterwards 
to receive what purported to be a statement of his account with the 
estate of Thomas Braine, deceased, — a store-bill amounting to over a 
hundred dollars, and no less than five hundred dollars in borrowed 
money. He wrote instantly to a friend at Fort Ryan to see the widow 
and have things straightened out. He protested that his store-bill 
could not be more than forty or fifty dollars ; that old Braine had lent 
him two hundred dollars at one time, which he had paid back to him 
all but fifty, and two hundred more when he went to Arizona, which 
he had instantly repaid, so that the total amount of his indebtedness 
could not exceed one hundred dollars. But the widow said she didn’t 
know anything about it. Mr. Schonberg had kindly taken charge of 
all her affairs, and he had the books and everything and all the corre- 
spondence and knew all about it. Hearn, of course, refused to pay any- 
thing but the hundred dollars. Then they threatened him with legal 
j)roceedings, and next they importuned him through the War Depart- 
ment, which, just as old Kenyon says, believed the blackguard and 
called on Hearn for an explanation. It nearly drove the young fellow 
mad. He was proud and sensitive. He couldn’t bear to think of the 
publicity and scandal. He had never given Braine any receipt for the 
money obtained from him ; never had asked any for the money repaid. 
He was too honorable to deny the fact of having borrowed the money, 
yet had nothing to show, the old man being dead, for the money that 
he had returned. I had heard something of his trouble, but was 
ordered East on recruiting service just then, and began to get into 
troubles of my own, for it was there I met this young woman.” And 
the captain, with eyes that belied his words, turned fondly to his wife. 

Tiie next thing I heard of Hearn, the matter had all been most for- 
tunately settled, — thanks to one of our old captains, who, it seems, had 
Known both Schonberg and the widow Braine. He took the matter up, 


188 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


and the Jew was glad to drop it. Even Hearn does not know what 
hold he had on them, but it was settled then and there. Hearn paid 
a hundred dollars, and Schonberg, I am told, had to pay the lawyer 
whom he had employed. I often think, though, how hard would 
have been the young fellow^s fate if there had been no one to come to 
the rescue. There isn’t a better soldier or braver officer in the Eleventh 
to-day than Hearn, and he is just as steady as a ro(^k ; but soldiers aa 
good as he have been driven out of the army for lack of some such 
friend as came to him in his extremity.” 

You would have helped him, Fred dear,” said Mrs. Lane, fondly, 
crossing over to the captain and stroking the grizzled stubble about his 
brows as though it were the loveliest hair in the world. Lane possessed 
himself of the soft white hand and threw his arm about her shapely 
waist. 

I would certainly, had I known, but nine out of ten do not happen 
to be able to help, even when our inclinations would lead. And, then, 
however much we believed in Hearn’s story and Schouberg’s rascality, 
who could prove it ?” 

Who did prove it?” asked Miss Marshall, after a pause. 

Well, no one, that I know of. All we know is that Schonberg 
was glad to drop the matter three years ago when Captain Rawlins first 
tackled the case. Hearn says he has never alluded to it from that time 
to this until the fellow’s language to-day ; but that was only some vague 
drunken threat.” 

“ But if, on the contrary, it should prove that he meant to make 
more trouble for Mr. Hearn,” asked Miss Marshall, ‘‘is Captain 
Rawlins here ?” 

“ By Jove !” exclaimed the captain, starting suddenly to his feet, 
his face growing as suddenly grave and sad, “ that possibly explains 
the letter that came to me yesterday morning. I was reading it as you 
came down to breakfast, — a low, anonymous thing, and I burnt it. 
Now I wish I had kept that.” 

“ About Mr. Hearn, was it ?” asked Mrs. Lane, anxiously. 

“ Yes; and now I can begin to understand it, too. — Miss Marshall,” 
said he, turning impressively towards her, “your question goes to the 
very bottom of this case. The friend who blocked their game three 
years ago is gone : Rawlins was killed in the last campaign in Arizona.” 

“ Oh, Fred !” cried Mrs. Lane. “ And was there no one else who 
had helped Mr. Hearn ?” 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


189 


“No one but our old Rawlins, Mabel ; and of all men to help him 
now, he would have been the most valuable here with our new colonel, 
for he and Morris had been devoted and intimate friends in war days, 
and I am told the colonel was deeply cut up by the news of Rawlins’s 
death. There was something romantic about their early friendship. 
Ca})tain Rawlins was a widower whose wife had died within a few 
years of her marriage, and I have heard that both he and Morris, when 
young officers, were in love with her, but that she had chosen Rawlins.” 

“ But, Captain Lane,” said Miss Marshall, whose thoughts seemed 
less fixed upon the romantic than upon the practical side of the case, 
“surely Mr. Hearu has receipts in full for this amount?” 

“ I so understood him. Miss Marshall ; and yet I do not know the 
nature of the papers to which he refers. I think he said that he had 
her letter ; but that is of less value now.” 

“And why?” asked Miss Marshall. 

“ Because the widow married Schonberg.” 

“ ‘ Then must the Jew be merciful,’ ” quoted Miss Marshall. 

And for a few moments not another word was spoken. It was 
that young lady herself who broke the silence : 

“ Perhaps you think me unduly apprehensive, Cai)tain Lane. 
That man’s face made a powerful impression upon me when I saw him 
to-day, and perha|)S Mabel has told you something of my own experi- 
ence in trying to retrieve my father’s fallen fortunes when he w'as too 
old and broken to do anything for himself. I learned then the worth- 
lessness of spoken words, and that nothing but written contracts and 
receipts were binding.” 

She had hardly ceased speaking when the gate was heard to swing 
on its rusty hinges, a resolute step creaked across the piazza, and some- 
body was fumbling at the bell-knob. 

“ Who can that be at this hour of the night?” asked Mrs. Lane, as 
the captain went to the door. The bolts were drawn back, and a rush 
of cold night-wind swept in, causing the lamps to suddenly flare and 
smoke. 

“ Please, sir, is the doctor here ?” a voice was heard to ask. 

“ No,” answered Lane. “ What’s wanted ? He left here about 
twenty minutes ago. Have you been to his quarters?” 

“ Yes, sir ; and they told me he was here, at Captain Lane’s. 
Corporal Brent is took worse, sir, and the steward thinks the doctor 
ought to see him. He’s wild like, and raving.” 


190 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


“Mabel, dear, I’ll be back in a moment,” said Lane, reappear- 
ing at the parlor door. “Don’t wait for me: I’m going to see if the 
doctor is at Hearn’s. They went away together. Corporal Brent is 
reported worse.” 

Throwing his cavalry “circular” over his shoulders. Lane stepped 
forth into the night. It was moonless and pitchy dark. The lamps 
around the quadrangle were burning brightly, but hardly sufficed to 
illumine more than a small sphere in the surrounding gloom. Across 
the wide valley a distant ruddy spark showed where some farm home- 
stead was still alive; and far away to the westward the electric lights, 
swinging high over the thoroughfares of the thriving town, shone with 
keen, cold lustre, and were mirrored in some deep, unruffled pool of the 
stream. Turning his back on these, the captain trudged briskly down 
the walk, the hospital attendant following, and opened the little gate 
some fifty yards away from his own. As he surmised, the doctor was 
here, for his voice, and Kenyon’s too, could be heard before Lane 
tapped at the door. 

“ Come in,” shouted Hearn, in answer to the signal, and the cap- 
tain entered. 

“ You are asked for at the hospital, doctor. They say Brent is 
delirious.” 

At this the medical man dropped the cigar he had but half 
smoked and left the room. Lane w'as for going with him, but Hearn 
begged him to stay : 

“No time like the present, captain, and I want you to see the 
papers in the celebrated case of Braine vs. Hearn while Major Kenyon 
is here. I’ll beg Mrs. Lane’s pardon in the morning, and not detain 
you more than a minute.” 

Standing against the wall in the midst of what had been old Blau- 
velt’s sitting-room was a plain wooden table with a pigeon-holed desk 
upon it, the lid of which, turned down, made the writing-shelf. In 
the pigeon-holes were numerous folded papers, well-filled envelopes, 
packages of tobacco, a brier-root pipe, a pair of old shoulder-straps, 
several pairs of gloves, some fishing-tackle, some carte-de-visite-^\zQdi 
photographs, a damaged sabre-knot, and the inevitable accumulation 
of odds and ends with which a subaltern’s field-desk is apt to be lit- 
tered. But the pigeon-holes had been quite systematically labelled. 
There were compartments bearing the legends “letters unanswered,” 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


191 


^Metiers aDswerecl” ^‘personals,” bills paid,” “bills unpaid” (both 
impartially occupied), “ pay-accounts,” “ maps,” “ field-notes,” etc. 

“ I never knew the necessity of having some sort of system about 
these matters until after the experience I have been telling you of, cap- 
tain ; and I am indebted to dear old Rawlins for it. You never met 
him, did you. Major Kenyon ?” 

“No; except just for a moment in the Shenandoah Valley during 
the war. He was commanding his regiment then.” 

“Yes, and lived to be shot down in cold blood by a lot of am- 
buscading Apaches nearly a quarter of a century after, and — nothing 
but a captain of cavalry.” 

“ He had some little property here in town at one time,” said 
Kenyon. “ That was nearly ten years ago, though, and it went at a 
sacrifice, I’m told. Perhaps it was while he was a local tax-payer that 
he got to know your Hebrew friend of to-day.” 

“ He never told me what he knew of him, beyond the mere fact 
that he was dishonest and a born mischief-maker. But the moment 
he took that case up for me Schonberg dropped it. For some reason 
the Jew was afraid of the old man, as every one called Rawlins.” 

Hearn was turning over in his hand, as he spoke, a package of 
folded papers held together by elastic snaps. Removing the upper 
band, he began looking over the docketing at the top of each paper. 

“ Rawlins, himseli^ endorsed this particular packet for me, and 
showed me how it should be done,” he said. “ I’ve often thought that 
if we could drop out a little slice of the mathematical course at the 
Point, and have some coaching in this sort of thing, how much better 

fitted we should be for the every-day duties of life. Now, I 

Why, this is odd. I certainly had those papers in this very packet 
not three weeks ago. I saw them the day I moved in here. I re- 
member overhauling this very desk at the time.” 

Nervously he ran through the package again, his fingers rapidly 
turning the folded pages, his face paling with sudden apprehension. 

“ There was a letter here from Captain Rawlins, two receipts of 
Schonberg’s, and the letter from Mrs. Braine, all bundled up together, 
and the endorsement of each in Rawlins’s handwriting.” 

Then he threw down the packet and began pulling out the papers 
in other pigeon-holes, Kenyon and Lane standing silently by. In vain 
he searched. Not a vestige of the desired proofs could be found. It 


192 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


was with a white face and eyes that were full of trouble that he turned 
upon his seniors : 

My God ! those papers are gone 

‘‘Look in your trunk, man,’’ said Lane, kindly; “don’t give up 
yet;” while Kenyon, himself, began a search on his own account in 
the now disordered desk. 

“ Was this always kept locked when you went out, Hearn?” asked 
the major. “ Surely such important papers ought not to be left lying 
around loose.” 

“ Locked ? Yes. At least I never was away for any time without 
locking it. Sometimes, just going out to receive reports at roll-call, I 
would not lock up ; for who would want to rob a fellow of papers of 
no value to any one but the owner?” 

The major looked grave. Lane’s face was full of anxiety which he 
hardly knew how to conceal. Both well knew the almost universally 
careless habits of the bachelor officers in garrison. Their doors are 
never locked ; their rooms are empty half the time, and their pocket- 
books empty ordinarily as their rooms ; their books, papers, desks, even 
trunks, almost always lying unguarded about the premises. Servants 
and orderlies move from house to house unquestioned, and the rear 
doors are unfastened day and night. “ We have nothing worth steal- 
ing,” is the general theory, “ so why bother about locking an empty 
stable ?” 

“ Who is your servant ?” asked Kenyon, brusquely. 

“ Our black boy, Jake. He has taken care of my rooms and traps 
for three years, and works for Wallace and Martin, too. He’s as 
honest a nigger as ever lived ; has been with the regiment longer than 
I have.” 

“ Yes ; Jake isn’t half a bad boy. But was there no one else who 
had the run of the ])remises ?” 

“ Not a soul. Jake, himself, is rarely here except when at work.” 

There was a moment’s silence. The major presently sauntered 
over and tried the door leading to the dining-room. 

“ Here is the key, if you want to go in there,” said Hearn. “ I 
have kept all the rooms locked since Blauvelt left, except this one and 
my bedroom up-stairs. The back door is locked too. Jake always 
comes in the front way. I don’t suppose any one has come through 
the kitchen since the day the captain’s family left.” 

“Didn’t Welsh have to come here for his traps?” asked Lane. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


193 


Yes ; but he was under guard at the time, — had a sentinel over 
liim, — and both Jake and I were here. He took nothing out of this 
house but his own personal belongings, and never entered this room at 
all that day. I couldn’t help it, but after seeing him with Schonberg 
to-day the first explanation of my loss that occurred to me a moment 
ago was — Welsh. Yet how could he have been the man?” 

There was another moment of silence. Lane stood thoughtfully 
examining the lock of the desk, then strolled into the hall and tried 
the key of the front door. As he stood there under the swinging 
lamp, the clink of an infantry sword was heard at the gate, and the 
voice of Captain Brodie : 

What are you youngsters doing at this hour of the peaceful 
night ? Come out here and worship nature and visit sentries for me. 
Oh ! beg your pardon, Lane : I thought it must be some of the boys.” 

Major Kenyon and I have been keeping Hearn awake,” was the 
answer. We were just going.” 

Hello, Brodie,” quoth the major, as he, too, came forth. Have 
you been to see how Brent is ?” 

‘‘Delirious, I’m told. Only the doctor and the steward are with 
him. I was just waiting for twelve o’clock to go down and stir up the 
sentries. There ought to be none but cavalry officers of the day at this 
post, by Jove, so that they could ride around among these outside sen- 
tries. It’s too far for a Christian to walk twice in twenty-four hours. 
Thank God, there’s the call now.” 

At the first words from the lips of the sentry at the guard-house 
the lamps at the two western gates were promptly extinguished, and 
then the forms of two men could be discerned flitting from post to post, 
extinguishing each lamp in turn. Soon the entire quadrangle was 
wrapped in total darkness, and the silent stars gleamed all the more 
brilliantly in the unclouded sky. Far over to the westward the reflec- 
tion of the electric lights, a pallid, sickly glare upon the heavens, 
suddenly faded into nothingness. 

“ That’s the first time the town clock and ours have been so close 
together since my coming to the garrison. Where did we get this 
custom of dousing the glim at midnight?” asked Lane. 

“ The — th started that when they were here. Got it from town, 
perhaps. Listen a moment,” answered Brodie. “ I want to hear the 
sentries down towards the bridge.” 

Faint and far, though borne on the wings of the soft night-wind, 

13 


194 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


the call of No. 7 had just sounded. It was now the turn of the 
farthest sentry, No. 8, whose post was down the winding road at the 
haystacks and wood-yard. A rich, musical Irish voice, softened by 
distance, began its soldier troll : 

“N-um&r Eight. — Tw-el-ve o^clock, — anda-a-all’s Who goes 

there f Halt! Halt! Corp’l the gu-a-ard — Number Eight Bang! 

Hearn was the first of the four officers to reach the southwest gate. 
He could hear the footfalls of the officer of the guard running rapidly 
down the road past the stables, and without hesitation followed full 
tilt. The guard was hurriedly turning out and forming. It was the 
sergeant who faced it to the front and made the customary report to 
Captain Brodie, as the officer of the day came panting to the spot : 

Sir, the guard is present and the prisoners secure.” 

An audible snicker in the prison-room followed these words. A 
corporal file-closer stepped back into the guard-room and gruffly ordered 
silence among the prisoners, which only evoked more tittering and 
whispering. A sudden thought occurred to the officer of the day. 

‘‘ Bring your lantern here,” he said, as he strode through the guard- 
room into the narrow passage beyond. On one side was the prison- 
room whence the sound proceeded ; on the other were the cells. 

‘‘ Open these doors,” he ordered. 

There’s only one cell occupied, sir ; the third.” 

Open that, then.” 

The heavy door creaked on its hinges. A gust of cool night-air 
blew through the cell. The window was wide open. The iron slats 
were sawed away. The bird had flown. Private Goss, the assailant 
of Corporal Brent, was gone. 


VII. 

In the soft, June-like weather of that memorable week at By an the 
ladies spent but little of their waking moments in-doors, and even the 
broad verandas of the colonel’s quarters on the north side were no more 
popular or populous than those of Captain Lane at the southwest 
corner. Mrs. Lane and Miss Marshall attributed this to the fact that 
the sun on its westward way passed behind their cosey home and left 
the front piazza cool and shaded, whereas even the canvas hangings in 
front of the Morrises’ could not quite shut out the glare. But Mrs. 
]\Iv)rris laughingly declared that since their coining into the society of 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


195 


Fort Ryan she had become a decided back number/^ Whether the 
theory of the coloneFs wife were true or not, it must be said to her 
credit that she accepted the situation with charming grace, and was 
quite as frequent a visitor at the Lanes^ as many of the younger women. 
Her own guests had departed, leaving her somewhat lonely, she said ; 
and, while she thought it by no means a proper or conventional thing 
that she should be so constantly visiting people who so seldom honored 
her, she could not but have ocular proof at all hours of the day that 
Mrs. Lane and her fair friend Miss Marshall could not sally forth to 
make calls except at the price of leaving a number of callers in the 
lurch. There were other young ladies in garrison, just then, — Miss 
Wharton, visiting her brother, and Miss McCrea, staying at the Burn- 
hams\ There were several pretty girls in the neighboring town, who 
frequently came out and spent a few days with the families at the post; 
and all these, of course, as well as the young married ladies, were the 
recipients of much attention on the part of the officers, young and old. 
It is a fact well understood in army circles that few^ officers are too old 
to tender such attentions, and no woman too old to receive them. 

And Mrs. Lane was rejoicing in the success of her projects for the 
benefit of Georgia Marshall. Her friend was a pronounced success 
from the day of her arrival ; and yet it was somewhat difficult to say 
why. She was not a beauty, despite her lovely eyes ; she had none of 
those flattering, soothing, half- caressing ways some women use with 
such telling effect on almost every man they seek to impress. She was 
not chatty. She was anything but confidential. She was rather silent, 
and decidedly reserved, yet a most attentive listener withal ; and then 
she had the courage of her opinions. Her prompt and prominent part 
in the little drama enacted the night of her arrival had made her 
famous in the garrison ; her frank, unaffected, but gracious ways had done 
much to make her popular. The statement that she was an orphan 
and poor, combined with the fact, which the other women so speedily 
determined, that she was not pretty, had removed her, presumably, from 
the range of jealousy. The other girls found her very entertaining, 
since she let them do much of the talking, and were willing to accord 
to her a certain quiet style of her own. The men were glad to be civil 
to any friend of Mrs. Lane’s. And yet Georgia Marshall had not been 
there a week before, as Mabel confidently predicted, she was having 
in abundance tete-d-Utes of her own. 

It was the third morning after the escape of the prisoner Goss, 


196 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


and for forty-eight hours nothing else had been talked of among the 
soldiers, and nothing had excited so much comment among the fam- 
ilies at the post. Up to this moment not a trace had been found. The 
two iron slats in front of his window had been cut through swiftly 
and noiselessly from within with watch-spring saws, and the tallow and 
iron-filings lay about the stony window-sill. He had been thoroughly 
searched before being put in that cell, and it was absolutely certain 
that neither files nor tallow were then in his possession. The guard 
swore that no man had had access to him afterwards. A wire netting 
prevented anything from being thrown to him from the outside, and 
this had been forced upward and outward after the bars were cut. 
The sergeant of the guard was sure that no man had touched or even 
spoken to him, except when he, himself, had seen his dinner and supper 
handed in. There could have been no collusion on the part of the sen- 
tries, for the men on No. 1 all through the day and night were of the 
infantry, and warm friends of Brent, who would have lost no chance 
of putting a bullet through the supposed assailant in the event of his 
attempting to escape. The blacksmith said it would take several hours 
— at least five — to file through those two bars, and the man must have 
worked with the patience of a beaver. It was a drop of only seven feet 
to the ground without, for the window overlooked the up-hill slope 
back of the guard- house ; and yet, as he probably had to come through 
head first, that was quite a fall. The prints of his outspread hands 
were found in the dust-heap, and it looked as though he must have 
lain there some moments before stealing away. 

The sentry far down by the wood-yards. No. 8, stated that just 
as he was calling off and standing faced to the east so that his voice 
might carry to the guard-house, he heard a sudden stumble behind him ; 
a man tripped over a log between him and the road, then ran like mad 
down toward the old station. It was too dark to recognize who it could 
be. The officer of the guard had stopped to interrogate the sentry on 
reaching his post, but Mr. Hearn had pushed ahead, and down at the 
foot of the hill had plainly heard a horse’s hoofs and the light rumble 
of wheels crossing the bridge and going at a spanking trot ; yet soldiers 
returning from pass, reliable men, had neither seen nor heard horse or 
wagon anywhere on the flats along which lay the road to town. An 
effort had been made to trail the wheel-tracks from the bridge, but, 
though a place was found among the trees near the old station where a 
horse and buggy had evidently stood for two or three hours, it was im- 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


197 


possible to determine which w^ay they had gone after crossing the stream, 
for the farm-wagons coming from every by-road in the morning had 
totally obliterated the tracks. 

Goss’s escape while under charges of such grave character was 
regarded as tantamount to admission of his guilt. 

Meantime, Corporal Brent’s case seemed to have taken a turn for 
the better, and, though there was still danger, there was hope. What 
struck many inquirers was the fact that the doctor seemed ill at ease, 
and invariably evaded the question, when pressed as to the nature of 
Brent’s delirium. This, of course, simply served to whet public curi- 
osity ; and the young soldier became, all unconsciously, an object of 
greater interest than ever. The ladies of the infantry, who had known 
him by sight some time, were certain that from the very first he had 
borne all the outward appearance of a gentleman, and in every word 
and gesture had given the world assurance of a man” of birth and 
breeding. Their sisters of the cavalry, who had but recently reached 
Fort Ryan, were not slow in accepting their theories. Such things 
were by no means uncommon in the service ; and wouldn’t it be deli- 
cious, now, to have a romance in the ranks at Ryan ? Only fancy ! 
Mrs. Burnham, Mrs. Brodie, and, above all, Mrs. Graves, were quite 
ready to go to the hospital at any time the doctor would permit and 
become the nurse of the young corporal ; but the medical man almost 
bluntly declined the services of two of these ladies, and with positive 
insolence, said the third, had told her she could much better devote her 
ministrations to her own children. Just as if I didn’t know best what 
my children needed !” said the offended matron. 

And it was about Dr. Ingersoll that Mrs. Graves was discoursing 
this very morning on Mrs. Lane’s piazza, while her own olive-branches 
were clambering the fences and having a battle royal with the progeny 
of Mrs. Sergeant Flynn at the other end of the garrison. And, as luck 
would have it, who should come along the gravel walk but the major 
and the doctor, arm in arm ! at which sight Miss Marshall’s expressive 
eyes, brimming with merriment, sought the half- vexed features of 
Captain Lane, who had been fidgeting uneasily in his chair during her 
ladyship’s exordium. Like many another excellent soldier, this prac- 
tised trooper had no weapon with which to silence a woman’s tongue. 

‘^You’ll find I’m right, Mrs. Lane. See if you don’t,” proceeded 
Mrs. Graves, all unconscious of the coming pair. “You found I 


198 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


wasn’t mistaken about Major Kenyon ; and they are just as like as two 
peas in a pod, — both of them.” 

Then, recalled to the possibilities of the situation by the mirthful 
gleam in Miss Marshall’s eye and the audible chuckles of Mr. Lee, she 
whirled about and caught sight of the object of her dissertation. 

‘^Oh, it’s you they’re laughing at, is it?” she hailed. “ I was just 
talking about you.” 

Then how could you find the heart to laugh, Mrs. Lane ?” said 
the major, raising his cap with simulated reproach of mien. Does it 
amuse you to see fellow-mortals flayed alive? Is it not bad enough 
that, like Sir Peter Teazle, I am never out of Mrs. Graves’s sight but 
that I know I’ve left my character behind me? The doctor and I 
were wondering whether there was a vestige left of the good impression 
we strove to make upon Miss Marshall.” 

I’m sure you ruined all possibility of that three days ago, major, 
when you showed her what a cynical old party you were. No wonder 
the young officers in our regiment lose all love for their profession after 
hearing you talk. If I were Colonel Morris, I wouldn’t have 'you 
contaminating the lieutenants of the Eleventh the way you were trying 
it on Mr. Hearn the other day.” 

Where is Mr. Hearn, by the way ?” asked Mrs. Lane, eager to 
put an end to such unprofitable controversy. He hasn’t been in here 
for nearly two days. Come, major, — come, doctor, walk in and sit 
awhile. We want to hear how Corporal Brent is, too.” 

Brent seems easier, Mrs. Lane, thank you,” answered the surgeon. 
“ I cannot stop just now ; we came over to meet the mail, for the 
orderly seems to have an unusually big load this morning. Here 
come the youngsters up from the post-office now.” 

And, as he spoke, perhaps half a dozen young cavalrymen, still in 
their riding-boots and spurs, as though they had but just returned 
from drill, came slowly up the slope. Wharton had an open news- 
paper which he was reading aloud ; the others were hanging about 
him, evidently listening with absorbed attention, to the neglect of their 
own letters. 

“What’s the matter with the boys ?” asked Kenyon, whimsically, 
as they approached. “ They look as solemn as owls.” 

Naturally, all eyes were drawn toward the coming party. Lane, 
bending forward, saw that Hearn’s face was pale, even under the coat 
of tan and sunburn. He would have passed them by, simply lifting 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 199 

liis cap, as Wharton half folded the paper when the group filed in 
through the main gate, but again Kenyon spoke: 

“ What makes you look so like a pack of mutes, lads? What’s 
gone wrong? Is Congress sailing into us again?’’ 

“ Major Kenyon,” said Martin, deliberately, halting in front of the 
gate, 1 said some disparaging things about your remarks here the 
other day. I beg your pardon, sir. You were right; I was wrong, 
— Hold on, Hearn : don’t go now and brood over this thing. Stay 
here with the crowd, and we’ll take it all together.” 

Lane had half risen, anxiety deepening in his dark-gray eyes : 

What is it, Hearn ? Come in here, — come in, all of you.” 

And Georgia Marshall, glancing from one face to another, noted the 
silence and gravity that had fallen on each. Some looked full of siip- 
})ressed wrath, others simply perplexed and annoyed. Without a word 
to any one, Hearn stepped in and stood beside her chair. 

You best know your own papers, major : you read this aloud,” 
said Martin. 

And Kenyon, looking about in momentary surprise, unfolded the 
great pages of the Chicago daily. His eyes gleamed as they caught the 
heavy head-lines at the top of the sheet. 

“Hello! hello! what’s this?” he said. “ Army Brutality. Out- 
rageous Treatment of Private Soldiers. Civilians Insulted and Abused. 
A Thug in Shoulder-Straps. Lieutenant Hearn a Cowardly Bully. 
Special Despatch to the Palladium. Central City, May 3. — For 
years past the citizens of this thriving frontier town have had frequent 
cause for complaint as to the swaggering and insolent bearing of the 
officers of the army stationed at the neighboring j)ost of Fort Byan ; 
but of late the feeling has reached fever-heat, due to recent occurrences 
which attracted wide-spread attention. Acting under instructions, your 
correspondent reached this city five days ago, and has made a thorough, 
im])artial, and exhaustive investigation into the matter; has talked with 
many, if not all, of the prominent citizens ; has personally visited the 
post and conversed with a number of intelligent enlisted men ; and, as 
a result of his painstaking observations, he is enabled to send you the 
following account, for the absolute accuracy of every detail of which 
he vouches unreservedly. 

“ So far as the enlisted men are concerned, the people have no com- 
])laint to make. It is, indeed, the contemplation of their wrongs and 
sufferings that has roused the popular clamor against their aristocratic 


200 


AN ARMV PORTIA. 


and overbearing taskmasters. Just why it is that the instant a young 
man escapes from that hot-bed of flunkeyism and snobbery, West Point, 
and dons the straps of a second lieutenant, he should imagine that he 
owns the earth and that the nations should bow down to him, is some- 
thing no intelligent mind can understand. But to become convinced 
that it is so beyond peradventure, one has only to visit this representa- 
tive army post, garrisoned as it is by large detachments of so-called 
distinguished regiments; though, from all accounts, the distinction they 
have earned seems chiefly to be connected with drinking-bouts and 
gambling-tables. 

On every side it was declared to your correspondent that civilians 
who ventured out to the fort were treated with contumely and insult ; 
that the officers rudely ordered them off the reservation and forbade 
them to enter the sacred precincts of the barracks, and even caused 
their ejection from the public store and saloon, kept at the post by one 
Stone, who truckles, of course, to his official neighbors and obtains in 
return the mandate that the soldiers must spend their money with him 
at swindling prices, and the prohibition against their having any deal- 
ings with the reputable merchants in the city. On the other hand, the 
merchants who have been so unfortunate as to trust the officers are not 
able to collect their bills at all, and are absolutely forbidden to enter 
the garrison when they seek to press their claims. 

Here is the brief history of one day’s experience. In company 
with one of the oldest, wealthiest, and most respected business-men of 
this section, your correspondent drove to Fort Byan this morning to 
see for himself how far the facts would justify the allegations, and if 
a lingering doubt remained it was at once and forever rudely dispelled. 
A case of particular hardship had been brought to our attention, and 
we desired to see Trooper Welsh in person. He was on sick-report, 
excused from drill by reason of the treatment that had been accorded 
him by the commanding officer of his troop, or we probably could not 
have seen him at all. Seizing a moment when the officers were away 
at drill, Mr. S. sent a message asking the young soldier to come out. 
A fine-looking, intelligent man of about twenty-five years was pre- 
sented to your correspondent, and briefly and simply told his story. 
It was enough to make an American’s blood boil in his veins to note 
the emotion and humiliation it seemed to cause him. He came of au 
excellent family in the East, but, having long desired from patriotic 
motives to become a soldier of the flag, he had against their wishes 


AN ARMY PORTIA, 


201 


enlisted under an assumed name. From the very start his captain 
liad compelled him to work about his house like a common drudge. 
He had to black boots, build fires, sweep the kitchen, actually do 
chores for the captain’s cook. In vain he begged to be allowed to join 
his troop and learn his duty as a soldier : he was sternly refused. It 
made his own comrades among the soldiers look down upon him, and 
when he could find time to visit them at the barracks the sergeants 
abused him like a thief. But the man who particularly hounded him 
was Second Lieutenant Hearn, a young martinet fresh from West 
Point, who never lost a chance of cursing him for errors on drill or 
mistakes made afterward. The captain had taught him that when at 
work for him he must not quit it to jump up and salute every lieuten- 
ant who happened along; and just because he remained seated and at 
work when Lieutenant Hearn passed by, the latter cursed him like a 
dog, had him thrown into a filthy dungeon, and there he lay until he 
was tried by court-martial and sentenced by a gang of Hearn’s com- 
rades to fine and imprisonment for obeying his captain’s orders. An- 
other time, when he was cleaning the captain’s horse, the lieutenant’s 
horse, which was next him on the line, kept backing over him, tread- 
ing on him, and knocking his brushes out of his hand ; and because 
he simply pushed him back and spoke sharply. Lieutenant Hearn 
rushed in and swore he had a mind to kick him black and blue. ^If 
he had,’ said Welsh, — and the young soldier’s eyes blazed with pent-up 
feeling, — ^ I could no longer have controlled myself. I would have 
knocked him down and appealed to the people of America to uphold 
me.’ For this he Avas again thrust into the vermin-haunted dungeon, 
and this made him so ill that the surgeon himself had been compelled 
to interpose in his behalf. ^ I would desert and end it all,’ said the 
poor fellow, with tears in his eyes, ‘ but I have sworn to serve my 
country, and I shall keep my oath.’ When told that the Palladium 
would see him righted, though the heavens fell, his emotion was some- 
thing that would have melted the stoutest heart. 

But now comes the crowning peak of blackguardism. Warned 
by some spy, doubtless, of the fact that his victim was telling his story 
to citizens. Lieutenant Hearn suddenly appeared on the scene, and be- 
fore our eyes, with vulgar abuse and tyrannical bearing, ordered Pri- 
vate Welsh instantly to leave. In vain the young soldier respectfully 
pleaded that he had a right to speak with friends who came to see him. 
In vain he pointed out that he was on no duty at the time. In vaia 


202 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


Mr. S. interposed in behalf of justice and decency. The brutal bully 
seized the weakened invalid in an iron grasp, dragged him like a dog 
to the gutter in front, and then, with cuffs and curses, drove him before 
him into the guard-house. Meantime, Mr. S., who had formerly many 
friends at the post, hastened into the officers’ club-room, hoping to 
explain the matter and secure justice for the unfortunate fellow. But 
it was a hapless move. What business had he, a civilian, to intrude 
uninvited into the mighty presence of half a dozen beardless young 
satraps in shoulder-straps ? He was rudely ordered to leave the prem- 
ises ; and when, in his indignation, he protested against such treatment. 
Lieutenant Hearn himself came back boiling witli rage, calling for his 
troopers to come and eject these intruders from the garrison. We were 
actually driven by force off the reservation. 

Your correspondent has, of course, made immediate and respectful 
representation of these facts to the general commanding the depart- 
ment, and when next he visits the fort will do so with a safeguard that 
no bully in the uniform of a second lieutenant will dare gainsay. This 
is but the prelude of further details still more disgraceful to the pam- 
pered minions of a too long-suffering public.” 

For a few moments there was silence. Then the major glanced 
around his circle of listeners. 

“Well, Hearn,” said he, as he folded the paper, “somewhere I 
have heard the expression, ‘Didn’t I tell you so?’ Dulce et decorum 
est pro pab'ia mori, I don’t wonder you love your profession.” 

“ Surely they cannot believe such an outrageous tissue of lies,” 
burst out Mrs. Wharton, vehemently. “ Surely the moment our side 
of the story is heard the public will see the difference.” 

“ Our side, my dear madam, is never heard. The newspaper has 
the public ear. Scandal spreads world-wide ; truth never reaches half 
as far. Hearn has only one recourse, — ^grin and bear it, and pray God 
nothing worse may follow.” 

“ What worse can follow, I should like to know ?” asked Lee, 
indignantly. 

“What worse? Why, man, you don’t suppose a Chicago paper 
sends an emissary a thousand miles to work up only one scene in a 
sensation? Look for the next day’s issue, and the next. Wait till 
the letters demanding explanation begin coming in from department, 
division, and army head-quarters. Fiat justitia, mat coelam, will be the 
Palladium's cry; Parturiunt monies^ nascitur ridiculas mus, the out- 
come. But all the same, my friends and fellow-citizens, we don’t get 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


203 


tlirougli tins row without the biggest kind of a court-martial. — Ah, 
the orderly of the commanding officer ! Whom does he want?’^ 

Not a word was spoken, and every eye was fixed upon the trim 
figure of the approaching soldier, who entered the gate and, halting 
respectfully a few yards away from the foot of the steps, saluted : 

“ The colonePs compliments to the officer of the day, and desires 
that Private Welsh, now in the guard-house, be sent to the office imme- 
diately.’^ 

‘^Aha !” said Kenyon, as the soldier turned away. ^^Already some- 
body’s been tickling the colonel with a telegram. He’s hardly had 
time to read the papers. Now he will hear Welsh’s story; and when 
Welsh has sufficiently blackened the character of his commanding 
officer, Hearn will be afforded his chance. — Hearn, my boy, my hearty 
sympathies are with you. By all means go on and prosper in your pro- 
fession, and learn to love it as I do. — Martin, you and he have a mo- 
ment to spare, come over to my quarters with me : I want to talk this 
thing over with you. — Good-afternoon, Mrs. Lane. Good-afternoon, 
Mrs. Graves. A sudden thought occurs to me. What was it Cam- 
broune is reported to have said at Waterloo? — ‘The Guard dies, but 
never surrenders.’ Here’s a more modern epigram for you ; The Press 
lies, but never retracts.” 


VIII. 

With all his soldierly qualifications. Colonel Morris, like most of 
his sex, had certain defects of character. He was a tireless worker as 
a regimental commander, and had done a great deal to bring up the 
“ tone” of the Eleventh, which had suffered vastly during the reign of 
old Biggs, his predecessor. He had won a good name as a young 
officer in the war days, and had borne himself well in the more trying 
and hazardous campaigns of the far frontier. But Morris, both during 
the war and since, had seen staff duty that had brought him into social 
and political circles in Washington ; had learned there the lesson that 
an ounce of influence is worth a pound of pure record ; that in most 
matters affecting army legislation it was the men who were the farthest 
away from the army whose opinions Congress sought ; that in all ap- 
j)ointments to the staff departments personal and professional excellence 
might plead in vain unless backed by Senators by the score; and that 
while judicious use of the gifts that God had put in his way in the 


204 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


shape of the public press might result in the gradual rearing of a 
monument of popular esteem, a single unguarded word or petulant ex- 
pression would tumble the whole fabric about his ears. He had seen 
the highest names in legislative, financial, and social circles dragged in 
the dust; the head of the House of Representatives dethroned ; a Wall 
Street monarch execrated ; a gallant soldier, maimed in battle, ridiculed. 
In combined and resistless assault the press had overwhelmed the 
record of years. Morris had faced death in a dozen fields without 
a flinch, but he trembled in the presence of a reporter. 

Nervous, irritable, and unstrung, he called his officers about him 
on the following day. Guard-mounting was still in progress ; the 
band was playing sweetly on the grassy parade ; the ringing voice of 
the soldierly young adjutant swung the column around in its jaunty 
march in review. One after another the troop and company officers 
came quietly in, bade their flushed commander a courteous good-morn- 
ing, and took their seats. He was pacing the floor, tugging at his 
moustache, another telegram in his hand. 

‘‘Where’s Dr. Ingersoll?” he asked, suddenly stopping in his 
walk. 

“ Here, colonel,” said the post surgeon, stepping within the office 
from the brick pavement outside. “I was waiting a moment to see 
the steward, to give some directions as to Brent’s case.” 

“ Ah, yes. He’s better, I believe. Now, I see you have marked 
Welsh for duty, and the man tells me he couldn’t sleep all night be- 
cause of pains and chills.” 

“Welsh is as well as I am. Colonel Morris, or if ill has only 
himself to blame. He knows as well as I do that he has no business 
to go to the store and drink when under treatment and taking medi- 
cine. It is my firm conviction, sir, that that man is simply trying to 
shirk.” 

“Well, well. Dr. Ingersoll, it is a matter in which we cannot be 
too careful. You haven’t the faintest conception, sir, to what this most 
unfortunate affair may lead. It is infinitely better that we should be 
imposed upon by a shirk than that the public should get to look upon 
us as this man’s persecutors. The Palladium that came yesterday was 
bad enough, in all conscience, but here’s another telegram from depart- 
ment head-quarters demanding immediate investigation and report upon 
the allegations contained in the second day’s issue of the series. How 
many are there to be, in heaven’s name? — Mr. Hearn, have you sub- 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


205 


niitted your explanation said the colonel, turning abruptly upon the 
young lieutenant, who was sitting in pained silence by Captain Lane. 

It is in the hands of the adjutant, sir,’’ answered Hearn, rising. 

I have not seen it, — I have not seen it. I hope you have been 
full and explicit, Mr. Hearn.” 

The lieutenant’s pale face flushed with sudden sense of indignation : 

“ I have never yet been accused of any attempt at concealment of 
my actions. Colonel Morris. Gentlemen present who have known me 
nearly six years will tell you that.” 

I’m not accusing you of anything, Mr. Hearn. Pray keep your 
temper, sir. But you do not seem to appreciate in the least the very 
trying and unj)leasant position in which you have, however unwittingly, 
placed every officer at this post, especially me, on whom the burden of 
responsibility must fall. If I had known four days ago that you had 
used violence — or at least force — in ejecting that soldier from the bar- 
room, I should certainly have discountenanced his further punishment. 
This sort of thing cannot be tolerated, Mr. Hearn. — And, gentlemen, 
I say it to you one and all, this sort of thing cannot be allowed. It 
creates a wrong impression among the people. It gives the press an 
opportunity to criticise our methods of discipline. It makes a martyr 
of the man in the eyes of the public, and we can’t stand it. I have 
felt compelled to release him from confinement and to direct the quash- 
ing of the charges against him.” 

There was a moment of dead silence. Hearn was struggling to 
control himself and to protest that he had used neither violence nor 
any force worth speaking of. But Captain Brodie took the floor : 

I must ask your pardon. Colonel Morris, but I was witness to 
that transaction from beginning to end, and I myself ordered Welsh 
taken to the guard-house. It was after that, not before, that force was 
used. Welsh cursed and resisted the corporal of the guard ” 

Never mind, Captain Brodie : what seems to have infuriated the 
man, and what has given rise to all this uproar of the press, is the fact 
that Mr. Hearn, as they say, dragged him out. Of course that may 
be exaggerated.” 

“ It’s a d d lie,” muttered old Kenyon, under his breath. ‘^But 

all the more it goes.” 

I do not wish to be unjust to Mr. Hearn in this matter,” con- 
tinued the colonel. “But I cannot too strongly deplore the conse- 
quences of his — of his action. And then in threatening to expel 


206 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


civilians from the garrison ! What earthly riglit had you, Mr. Hearn, 
to arrogate to yourself the faculties of commanding officer? I am the 
only man to say who shall and who shall not be kept on or off the 
reservation. And now, of all men on earth that you young gentlemen 
should have been particularly careful not to antagonize, it turns out 
that one of them is a representative of the press.” 

And, in the full realization of a circumstance so calamitous, the 
colonel sank into his chair. Hearn would have explained that he had 
made no personal threats, but Lane’s restraining hand was laid on his 
knee. 

Patience, lad !” he whispered. Say nothing now. It will all 
come right in the end.” 

I’m sure I took the utmost pains to be civil to the a — gentlemen,” 
drawled Martin, with his innocent eyes on the vacancy of the opposite 
walls. I implored Stone not to eject them. I had to beg off drink- 
ing with the — a-Israelitish party because I had to shoot. Of course, 
colonel, if I had known that the other gentleman was so highly con- 
nected, there’s no saying to what length I wouldn’t have gone to attain 
the elevation they had already reached, — one of them at least. A 
dozen drinks, I think, might have done it.” 

This is no occasion for the exercise of your sarcastic powers, Mr. 
Martin,” said the colonel, severely. It is to be hoped your civility 
was less transparent a sham than your present remarks.” 

Pardon me, colonel,” interposed Lieutenant Lee, whose seat was 
near the window. Here comes the gentleman himself.” 

Surely enough, a buggy drew up in front of the office, a bulky 
form slowly descended, and, with much deliberation of manner, Mr. 
Abrams, of Chicago, looked about him, then proceeded to tie his horse 
to a young maple at the edge of the walk. The orderly sprang for- 
ward : 

Beg pardon, sir, but it’s against orders to tie horses to the trees. 
The horse-posts are across the road.” 

Against whose orders ?” said the gentleman from Chicago, with 
slow and impressive movement, turning upon the trim soldier. 

‘^The colonel’s orders, sir. Even the officers can’t leave their 
horses in front of head -quarters, sir.” 

My God ! Here ! this will never do !” fidgeted the colonel, 
springing to his feet. Mr. Adjutant, send a man out here.” 

“Shall I take care of the gentleman’s horse?” said Martin, with 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


207 


grave humility of mien, rising slowly to his feet, as the colonel strode 
to the door. But Morris was too hurried to hear him, or even to re- 
buke the titter with which the words were greeted. By this time, 
paying no attention to the orderly, the representative of the Palladium 
had reached the door-way and was brought face to face with the post 
commander : 

Colonel Morris, I presume. I am the bearer of an order to you 
from department head-quarters.” 

Colonel Morris, sir, at your service,” replied the post commander, 

with much suavity. letter, I presume. Walk in, Mr. — Mr. 

Take a chair, sir.” 

Several of the officers nearest the door had risen promptly, as 
though in readiness to receive with due honors the colonePs guest. 
Others slowly followed their example. Some remained seated and 
continued a low-toned chat. All gradually resumed their seats, and, 
while some with evident curiosity studied the appearance of the 
stranger, Brodie and Lee looked at him with eyes that plainly spoke 
their resentment, while Hearn^s hands were clinched and his lips com- 
pressed. No word was spoken to the new arrival, however. He, with 
entire indifference of manner as to all the rest, fixed his gaze upon 
the commanding officer, who rapidly read. The note was short and 
to the point. Morris had reason to be thankful for his diplomatic 
training. 

I am greatly pleased to give you welcome, Mr. Abrams,” he said, 
extending his hand with much apparent cordiality of manner. “ This, 
while by no means necessary, of course adds to the readiness with which 
we open our doors to you. Had I known you were here and desirous 
of visiting the post for any purpose in the interests of your })aper, I 
should have found means to welcome you before, and am only sorry you 
did not make your presence known to me.” 

Major Kenyon had risen as the colonel was speaking, and now in 
low tone and with much respect of manner accosted him : 

By your leave, colonel, if there be nothing further in the way of 
business, may I request your permission to retire?” 

Certainly, Major Kenyon. — And, gentlemen, there were some 
matters to which I desired to call your attention, but it is so near time 
for ‘ boots and saddles,’ we will defer the matter until to-morrow. I 
will not detain you further.” 

There were one or two among the score of officers present who de- 


208 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


sired to see the colonel on some routine matters ; these contented them- 
selves with going over to the adjutant’s desk, as he entered, and whis- 
pering their requests to him ; the others promptly took their leave and 
sauntered out into the sunshine. Mr. Abrams noted the occurrence 
with a quiet but suggestive smile. 

For a moment no one among the little group seemed to find any- 
thing to say. It was Mr. Lee who gave the first expression to personal 
opinion. He burst out into a fit of laughter. 

I’m blessed if I can see anything to laugh about in this affair, 
Mr. Lee,” said the major, whose face was a shade moodier than ever. 
“ If anything was needed to confirm what I have hitherto said on the 
subject, here you have it. Perhaps it pleases you to see a comrade 
vilified by the press and then bulldozed by his commanding officer, who 
well knows the paper lied, but daren’t stand up for one of his subal- 
terns. And then to think of the fellow’s impudence, announcing him- 
self as the bearer of an order from head-quarters ! If I had been in 
command I should have told him orders were never sent by the hand 
of civilians.” 

Sail into the paper, if you like. Major Kenyon, but leave the 
colonel alone ; that’s purely our business,” was the prompt reply. — 
Captain Lane, may I ask if the colonel has requested an invitation to 
dinner to-night for his friend Mr. Abrams, of Chicago? I understand 
that Mrs. Morris and the chief are among your guests.” 

He hasn’t yet, Lee, and, if he should, the quartermaster will have 
to knock down a partition, for my dining-room can only hold twelve or 
fourteen by severe squeezing.” 

“ Captain,” said Hearn, as they walked away, I’m going to ask 
you to excuse me to-night. I would only be a cloud at your feast, and 
after what has passed I don’t feel as though I could sit at dinner with 
the colonel.” 

Hearn, my boy, you must come. We are not going to let you 
crawl into a corner now and brood over this. It is the very time when 
we want to stand by you and show how much we hold you in esteem.” 

‘‘ Yes,” was the bitter reply, yes, my colonel has given a glorious 
exhibition of what constitutes esprit de corps in the Eleventh. No, 
captain, I would do anything for you or Mrs. Lane, but I can think^ 
speak, dream, of nothing now but the wrong that has been done me, 
and I would only be a drag. You will excuse me, won’t you ?” 

Come in, come into the house, Hearn,” answered Lane, as they 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


209 


readied the gate. Come in and talk it over with Mrs. Lane and Miss 
Marshall ; they will do you good. They are both full of sympathy. 
Come; it^s quarter of an hour before drill.” 

But Hearn shook his head and drew away. 

“ I cannot,” he said ; “ I must go ; there’s ray home letter yet 
unwritten.” 

And so, with Lane’s anxious eyes following him, he strode rapidly 
away to his quarters. There Jim Wallace joined him at the gate. 

Three hours later, however, with drill over and the mail in, the 
question of dinner became of minor importance. Marked copies of the 
Palladium had been received by several officers, and the faces of the 
group on Captain Lane’s piazza were studies. 

“ Did the orderly take one to him, do you know ?” asked Mr. Lee, 
with a world of pent-up indignation in his tone. 

One !” answered the major; ‘‘one! the insult wouldn’t be com- 
plete without it. I think there were a dozen papers, marked copies, in 
his name.” 

“ Has no one gone to see him ?” asked Mrs. Lane, her sweet face 
full of sorrow. 

“ The captain was there when the mail came ; so was Mr. Wallace,” 
answered Miss Marshall, in low tones. “He seemed to anticipate 
something of the kind.” 

“This wdll have a tendency to make Hearn rather homesick, I 
fancy,” drawled Martin, after a solemn pause. “ I never quite appre- 
ciated the benefit of Southern institutions before.” 

“Sick, I admit, — sick at heart, sick of his cherished profession, 
perhaps ; but why homesick, Martin ?” queried the major. 

“ Oh, only because down South they shoot a man who publishes an 
outrageous slander like that, and the jury brings in a verdict of justifi- 
able homicide.” 


IX. 

The afternoon was lovely and full of sunshine. Thanks to the 
startling and sensational disclosures in the Palladium, the post had be- 
come an object of unusual interest to the surrounding populace, and, 
as the hour for dress-parade approached, vehicles of every description 
came streaming across the bridge, and before the trumpet sounded 
“ first call” the road in front of the officers’ quarters was well filled 
with carriages, buggies, carry-alls, and light wagons, while some enter- 

14 


210 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


prising livery-stable-keeper had fitted up a few open stages and pla- 
carded them with inscriptions setting forth that ^^To the Fort and back 
only a quarter’’ was a luxury now within the reach of everybody. 

The populace was beginning to gather as the cavalry officers came 
sauntering back from the stables, and Mr. Abrams, of Chicago, again 
alighted from his buggy with an air that fully conveyed his apprecia- 
tion of the fact that he was the ]mpular hero of the moment, — the 
daring journalist who had bearded the lion in his den, had publicly 
denounced the brutality of these arrogant wearers of straps and swords, 
and had even brought to the bar of justice one of their number. There 
was the utmost curiosity to see the representative of the and 

that eminent journalist, true to his principles of conforming with the 
views and wishes of the public, graciously accorded every opportunity. 
It was in passing this gentleman, surrounded by a gaping party of 
Central citizens, that the colonel somewhat ostentatiously called out, 
‘^Orderly, give my compliments to the adjutant, and say that, in 
view of the presence of so many gentlemen and ladies from town, I 
desire him to have the band ordered out at once,” and went on his way 
amidst such audible evidences of popular approval as, ‘^Ah! that’s 
business!” Ain’t he a Jim Dandy?” That’s my candidate for 
Brigadier!” He ain’t no stuck-up second lieutenant!” And the poor 
devils of bandsmen, just seating themselves at their supper of hot 
potato-stew and coffee, were com[)elled to drop the savory bowls, and 
hastily button their full uniforms over their anything-but-full stomachs 
and march forth upon the parade to entertain the populace until the 
rest of the show was ready. If but now an apoplectic stroke were to 
create a vacancy among the brigadiers, Morris’s star might indeed be 
in the ascendant. 

It had been the custom of the ladies at Captain Lane’s to appear 
on the piazza about the time that the officers came up from evening 
stables, and, reinforced by the Wliartons, next door, and sometimes by 
other fair ones, to serve a fragrant cup of tea to such of their regi- 
mental friends as had time to drop in. To-day, too, the cosey little 
tables had been set upon the veranda, but the close proximity of the 
southwest gate, through which all the teams came driving in, and the 
rude stares of the occupants of the various vehicles, speedily drov^e the 
ladies away; and Sam Ling, the Chinaman, an old retainer of Lane’s, 
was busily carrying the pretty china within-doors again and lamenting in 
voluble “ pidgin” the coating of dust which had been received, when 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


211 


the captain walked by, with Hearn at his side. In vain Mrs. Lane 
called to him from the door-way to bring in any one who would come. 
He shook his head and walked on, talking gravely and earnestly with 
his younger friend. Miss Marshall, standing at the window, noted 
the inexpressible sadness and distress in Hearifs once buoyant, hand- 
some face. He had grown years older in one day, she thought ; all 
the color had fled from his sun-tanned cheeks, and the light from his 
brave blue eyes ; yet there was a gleam in them, as he bent his head to 
talk with his friend the captain, that spoke of the smouldering fire 
within. She had thought him grossly wronged in the occurrences of 
the previous day, but it was the coming of the Palladium on the noon 
train that capped the climax. Omitting all the ingenious and alluring 
head-lines, condensing the sensational details in which the correspond- 
ent had worked up the case. Lieutenant Hearn stood accused before the 
whole United States of having forcibly ejected from the reservation a 
highly-respectable business-man who had vainly importuned him to 
pay tlie sum he for years had owed the estate of the former post trader, 
most of it borrowed money to help him out of gambling scrapes,’^ 
and had at last ventured to press his claim in person, only to be met 
with outrage and insult. There could be no doubt of the truth, said 
the correspondent : the books were open to the whole world, if need be, 
and the sum involved exceeded five hundred dollars. 

Georgia Marshall, gazing at the pair from the lace-draped window, 
clasped her shapely white hands in deep perjfiexity. The slander, the 
scandal, the wrong, was spread world- wide ; a refutation could never 
overtake it, even with the proofs of utter innocence at hand, and where 
were they? 

It was some comfort at least that he should look up, and, as though 
in search of one friendly face, search the window with his sad blue 
eyes. He should feel that, no matter what the press might say and 
the Jews might swear to, more than one among his friends believed in 
him through thick and thin. Her dark eyes were full of sorrow and 
sympathy, and yet flashing with scorn of his defamer. And it was 
this picture of her face, framed by those shimmering curtains and by 
the trailing, twining tendrils of smilax that hung thickly about the 
window, that suddenly met his troubled gaze, and that he carried in 
his memory day and night long, long after. 

Half an hour later the orderly came hurrying to Captain Lane’s 
quarters with a note, and then ran on down to the stables. 


212 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


This will settle the question for you, Mabel,” said Lane, who was 
getting into parade uniform. ‘‘Colonel Lawler comes on the sunset 
train, and Colonel Morris writes to know whether we cannot excuse 
him, or whether, perchance, there should be room for one more.” 

“ Ob, Fred, and weVe got to say yes, for Mr. Hearn won’t come,” 
answered Mrs. Mabel, with grief in her eyes. “ We’ve got to say, 
‘Bring him by all means;’ and yet howl hate to have our pretty 
dinner spoilt ! If the train could only be late !” 

“ That would spoil it still more, Mabel, for then your Oh !” 

said the captain, suddenly recollecting himself, and turning back to 
his particular little shaving-mirror, before which he began busily 
arranging the loop of his gold helmet cord. 

“ For then ?” exclaimed pretty Mrs. Lane, speeding across the 
space between her toilet-table and her liege-lord’s shaving- corner, and 
laying her white hands upon his shoulder-knots and gazing up into his 

half-averted face with sparkling eyes, — “ For then, you dear old 

You haven’t sent East for flowers ?” 

“ Perhaps it was some other fellow, then,” said the captain, du- 
biously. 

“ Oh, Fred, you darling ! I hadn’t hoped for anything half so 
lovely. Will they be here on this train, really? That’s why you 
didn’t want dinner served until so late, was it? Georgia and I were 
saying, just now, if we only had a few flowers the table would be 
perfect. I must run and tell her.” And impulsively she raised her 
soft lips to his face and kissed him enthusiastically. “ You are so 
thoughtful, Fred!” 

“ Very,” he responded, with much gravity of mien. “And that’s 
what prompted me to suggest to your ladyship the propriety of throwing 
a wrapper over those snowy shoulders. The orderly has left the hall 
door open, and all Central City seems out here to-night. There goes the 
‘ assembly,’ and your train should be here in fifteen minutes. I suppose 
I can tell the colonel as he drives past on the way down to meet him ?” 

Ordinarily the announcement of the advent of some such high func- 
tionary as the judge advocate of the division would have been quite 
sufficient to induce the colonel to turn over the command at parade to 
Major Kenyon and to go forthwith to meet the coming man. But 
here was the Slite of Central City, as well as a strong delegation of the 
masses, gathered to see the garrison, and Morris particularly prided 
himself upon the soldierly grace and style with which he presided at 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


213 


the most stately ceremony of the military day. If he were to fail to 
appear at the head of his troops, if all that line of officers were to 
march to the front and salute Major Kenyon instead of him, people 
might really get the idea that it was the infantry field-officer who was 
the post commander, not himself. No. In all the yellow radiance of 
his cavalry plumage Morris strode forth from his veranda and stood 
revealed in the rays of the westering sun. His orderly hastened 
through the groups on the gravelled road in front, and, halting, raised 
his hand in })icturesque salute, the eyes of Central City looking on : 

“ The coloueFs messages are delivered, and the carriage will be at 
the station.” 

‘‘Very well. Brooks. Now you yourself go down and be on the 
lookout for Colonel Lawler, a tall, sandy-haired, sandy-bearded man, 
rather slender, nearly sixty years of age ; report to him, and get his 
baggage into the wagonette and bring him here to my quarters, and 
say that I would have met him, but was detained at parade.” 

Again the orderly saluted, then faced about and strode away through 
the swarm of curious eyes which followed him a moment, then turned 
once more upon the gorgeous and gleaming proportions of the warrior 
putting on his white leather gloves and buttoning them at the wrist 
with much deliberation. Mrs. Morris being in her own room arraying 
herself for the Lane dinner-party, and the veranda being vacant, he 
then called to his adjutant, who came along the pathway at the moment, 
a vision of floating yellow plume and brilliant aiguillette, and after a 
moment^s conversation with his chief that young gentleman made his 
way to where a couple of town carriages were drawn up along the 
edge of the parade and presented the colonePs compliments to the occu- 
pants, the ladies of the postmaster’s and leading banker’s households, 
inviting them to bring their friends and come and sit on his piazza. 
Mr. Abrams, of Chicago, who was at the moment the centre of a knot 
of men, young and old, quitted their society, and, with his customary 
deliberation, sauntered over, opened the colonel’s gate, and with careless 
ease of manner accosted that official, Fine evening, colonel,” and 
then lowered himself into the nearest chair just as the officer, with a 
face that flushed unmistakably, excused himself, passed him by, and 
hastened down the steps to greet the entering ladies, while the adjutant, 
hurrying on to where his sergeant-major was awaiting him at the 
edge of the greensward, signalled the band, and the stirring notes of 
“adjutant’s call,” followed by the burst of martial strains in swing- 


214 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


ing six-eight time, heralded the coming of the troops of the whole 
command. 

Company after company, the cavalry from the west, the infantry 
from the east end of the quadrangle came marching forth upon the 
level green carpet, seemingly intermingling in confusion as they neared 
the centre, yet unerringly and unhesitatingly marching onward, until 
presently, with the solid blue-and-white battalion in the centre, and 
with the yellow-plumed helmets of the cavalry parading afoot on both 
Hanks, the long statuesque line stretched nearly half-way across the 
longest axis of the quadrangle. Company after company the white- 
gloved hands clasped in front of each man as its commander ordered, 
“ Parade rest,’^ and Colonel Morris himself, who had with much delib- 
erate dignity of manner marched out in front of the centre, now stood 
in solitary state with folded arms and glanced quickly along the mo- 
tionless line, while back of him some thirty yards, all along the edge 
of the parade, in buggies, carry-alls, ’busses, in long sombre rank afoot, 
Central City looked admiringly on. For a moment the main interest 
seemed to centre on Lieutenant Hearn, and fingers could be seen 
pointed, and voices heard announcing, “That’s him,” as he stood, tall 
and erect, in front of the troop he was commanding in old Blauvelt’s 
absence. 

With flourish of trumpets and three resounding ruffles the band 
swept out from the right front, and then all eyes were suddenly greeted 
by an unaccustomed sight. On the troops, long schooled in military 
etiquette, the effect was not at the time ap})arent, — neither by word nor 
sign was there indication that anything unusual had occurred ; but in 
the populace, long accustomed to individual visits to the fort and to 
observation of its military requirements, “ Keep off the grass” and by 
no means intrude upon the space reserved for military exercises, the 
sensation was immediate. Elbowing his way through the crowd stand- 
ing at the edge of the parade-ground, with cigar tip-tilted in his 
mouth, his light spring overcoat thrown back, with the same cool delib- 
eration that characterized all his movements the representative of the 
Palladium sauntered forth upon the sacred precincts, and, never hesi- 
tating until he had almost reached the commanding officer, presently 
came to a species of “ parade rest” of his own, half sitting on the 
backs of his hands, which were supported on the knob of his massive 
cane, and there coolly surveyed the proceedings from the very spot 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


215 


reserved for the adjutant, one yard to the rear and three to the left 
of the commanding officer. 

Some of the soldiers in ranks, unable to repress their merriment at 
the sight of so unusual a breach of etiquette, could not refrain from 
tittering. The voices of the file-closers could almost be heard in stern, 
low-toned reproach : ‘‘ Stop that laughing, Murphy !’^ “ Quiet, there, 
Duff}’ !’’ Morris himself could see that something unusual was going 
on, but, totally unconscious that his own official precincts were the 
scene of the solecism, never changed his position, but stood there 
statuesque, soldierly, and precise, all unconscious of his self-appointed 
staff-officer slouching behind him. As for Mr. Abrams, happy in the 
conviction that the people could not but look on and envy the proud 
prominence of the representative of the press, he appeared to have no 
other care than that of the criticism due the public of the martial 
exercises now taking place. That it was probably the colonel’s inten- 
tion to make a speech of some kind to his men, Mr. Abrams did not 
doubt, and that the Palladium should have every word of it he fully 
intended. 

The band by this time was hammering half-way down the line, and 
the officer of the day, coming suddenly in the northwest gate from a 
visit to the guard, became aware that something was exciting the mer- 
riment of the few men on the verandas of the cavalry quarters, and 
then caught sight of this strange figure out on the parade. He looked 
hurriedly about in search of the colonel’s orderly, but Brooks, as we 
have seen, had already gone on his mission to the station. Not a soul 
was there to whom he could intrust the duty, yet he knew he could not 
allow such a breach of military propriety to occur right under his eyes. 
There seemed no helj) for it ; he had to go himself ; and, by no means 
liking his duty, Captain Cross, of the infantry, hastened out on the 
parade, and with the eyes of both lines upon him, though the heads 
of the troops remained scrupulously fixed to the front, he stepped u]) 
to Mr. Abrams, tapped him on the shoulder, and civilly said, — 

“ I beg your pardon, sir, but no one is allowed on the parade- 
ground. I shall have to trouble you to fall back to the road-way.” 

Mr. Abrams looked angrily around. What ! Be compelled to 
quit his position? — to fall back in humiliation before all those people 
and meekly take his station among them, and actually to have to con- 
fess that, after all, a newspaper man Avasii’t the monarch of all he 
surveyed ? Never I 


216 


AN ARMF PORTIA. 


I’m here in the interests of the journal I represent, and I have 
full authority from the commanding general to inspect anything at this 
post,” was his instant answer, accompanied by a shrug of his shoulders 
and an ugly scowl. 

I cannot help that,” was Cross’s cool yet civil reply. You can 
see just as well from the edge of the parade, and here you will be in 
the way.” 

. I can’t see it clear back there, and I mean to stay where I can see 
and hear. If there’s anything I don’t understand, I wish to be where 
Colonel Morris can explain.” 

Thanks to the banging of the band, all this was inaudible to the 
colonel, who remained in blissful ignorance of the colloquy taking 
place so near him. 

‘‘ You cannot stay here, sir,” was the firm, low-toned answer. I 
will take pains to explain everything to you after you retire some twenty 
yards, but I trust you will not make it necessary for me to be more 
imperative. Come, sir.” 

And so, with the worst possible grace, Mr. Abrams had to give 
ground, and, accompanied by the officer of the day, fall back to the 
general throng. To cover his mortification as much as possible. Cross, 
in a smiling and courteous manner, went on to explain the purpose 
and details of the parade. But Abrams only turned angrily away. 
Twice he essayed to stop and face about, but Cross was getting his 
blood up by this time, and determinedly marched along to the very 
edge of the tittering line of towns-people, and there, raising his cap, 
said, with the utmost civility, — 

‘^And now, sir, if I can be of the faintest assistance in making 
this ceremony clear to you, command me. You will observe that the 
adjutant is coming out to occupy the very position you were in.” 

But Mr. Abrams was in the sulks, as was to be expected, and still 
more wrathfully turned his back, refusing to listen, so that Cross 
promptly left him to his own devices. The representative of the 
Palladium had sense enough not to attempt to resume his place, but 
he had lost interest in the performance simultaneously with his own 
loss of prestige among the crowd, and so, after a moment’s wavering, 
he turned about, and shouldered his sullen way toward his buggy, 
only stopping long enough to inquire of a civilian the name of the 
officer. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


217 

Cross, eh? Captain Cross. Sure of that, are you? All right; 
I’ll fix him,” he growled between his set teeth as he strode away. 

When a few moments later the long line of officers halted in front 
of the colonel and raised their hands in simultaneous salute, he re- 
sponded with something less than his customary graceful deliberation, 
and inquired, — 

What on earth was going on there, that there was so much gig- 
gling in ranks? It was mainly in front of you, Mr. Martin. Have 
you been attempting any witticisms, sir ?” 

Not that I can now recall, colonel,” responded Martin, with his 
usual drawl. “ Possibly the appearance of our Chicago friend in the 
rdle of adjutant was what prompted their merriment. If you invited 
him to accompany you, I trust you will excuse it.” 

‘‘ Whom do you mean, and what do you mean ?” 

“ Why, Mr. Abrams took post on your left and rear, sir, until 
Cross invited him elsewhere. I’m sorry for Cross : he has a wife and 
family, and yonder goes the gentleman, bound for the telegraph-office, 
no doubt. What won’t the Palladium say now ?” 

You don’t mean he was right here by me during parade?” said 
Morris, growing very red. 

Certainly, sir,” spoke Captain Brodie. You could have smelt 
his cigar if the wind hadn’t been blowing from the stables.” 

But the appearance of the wagonette whirling into garrison with 
the tall form of Colonel Lawler, a dust-colored figure from the crown 
of his felt hat down to his very boots, put an end to further remarks. 
Morris hastened to meet his guest, merely nodding response to Lane’s 
courteous invitation to bring him to dinner. 

X. 

Captain Lane’s quarters, as has been said, were charmingly furnished, 
and adorned with attractive pictures and bric-a-brac. The dining-room 
was small, as dining-rooms generally are in army garrisons, but by dint 
of moving out the stove which until now had cumbered one corner, and 
then crowding the sideboard into its place, sufficient room had been 
gained to admit of extending the table diagonally and seating fourteen 
people thereat. And now, with the curtains drawn, but the soft even- 
ing breeze playing through the open casement and the broad hall- 
way, in the soft yet brilliant light of dozens of wax candles set in 


218 


AN ARMV PORTIA. 


sconces on the walls or in heavy candelabra on the damask-covered 
board, a merry party had gathered for one of the lovely dinners’^ for 
which Mrs. Lane was already famous. Three of the infantry captains 
were present, with their wives. Pretty Jeannette McCrea, who was visit- 
ing the Burnhams, was escorted in by Dr. Ingersoll, popularly reputed 
to be an intractable bachelor, yet privately believed to be melting be- 
neath the tenderness of that young lady’s sweet blue eyes ; and Georgia 
Marshall found herself sitting vis-d-vis with Mrs. Brodie, a somewhat 
portly matron, who seemed capable of imbibing information through 
every pore and storing it for further use, and yet at the same time 
imparting new and startling opinions on all current topics with intensi- 
fied volubility. Her eyes took in every detail of the tasteful appoint- 
ments of the table. Her nostrils inhaM the fragrance of the roses and 
carnations lavished on every hand. Her lips parted to receive the 
succulent little clam — rare and unaccustomed luxury west of the Mis- 
souri, yet easily expressed from St. Louis — and to give utterance at the 
same instant to liveliest comments upon the unusual feature of that 
evening’s parade. It was not until after soup and the tiny thimbleful 
of sherry that audible conversation seemed to extend beyond her, and 
then Miss Marshall, who had been endeavoring to entertain Captain 
Brodie and distract his mind from contemplation of his better half’s 
undaunted conversational powers, found herself addressed by the gentle- 
man on her right : 

And so you are from Cincinnati, Miss Marshall, and paying your 
first visit to the West? Now, what do you think of the army?” 

Pardon me. Colonel Lawler, but isn’t that a trifle like the query 
we are said to propound to Englishmen who have just lauded? — How 
do you like America ?” 

But I inferred that you had been here long enough to form an 
opinion.” 

“ To form one vaguely, perhaps, but probably not long enough to 
subject it to the test of experience.” 

“ And do you never express opinions until assured of their justice? 
Really, Miss Marshall, I must compliment you on such wisdom and 
discretion. You should have been a lawyer.” 

Yes, colonel ? — and that, I understand, is your profession. Now 
I am indeed complimented.” 

Colonel Lawler’s eyes had been wandering about the table as he 
spoke, but now he turned suddenly and suspiciously upon the girl at 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


219 


his side. He was a man of singular mental mould. He had been a 
clerk in the office of his uncle, a prominent lawyer in the distant East ; 
had had merely a common-school education, and was laboriously read- 
ing law, when his patron found himself suddenly called upon to assume 
responsible duties at the national capital, and hastened thither, taking 
his clerk with him. Lawler at that time was nearly thirty-five, and 
had not yet been called to the bar. It was the third year of the great 
war. His patron soon found that the requirements of his office were 
such that a man of far higher attainments would be needed as secretary, 
and, being thrifty and unwilling to pay the salary of a clerk out of his 
own pocket, he decided on the not unusual expedient of shunting him 
off on a paternal government. Lawler had no idea whatever of enter- 
ing the army as one of the fighting force, but the proposition of his 
uncle was almost dazzling. He wasn’t much of a lawyer, to be sure, 
but quite good enough for the purpose, said the old gentleman to him- 
self. And so it resulted that the green New-Englander was transferred 
to a clerkship in the bureau of military justice, and speedily blossomed 
out as a major and judge-advocate of volunteers, with station in the city 
of Washington. The first thing the excellent fellow did, after getting 
his uniform and sword, was to post off to the Granite State and marry 
the middle-aged maiden who for ten years had been patiently waiting 
the day when he could accumulate enough money to buy a little home, 
and, with his bride, he returned to honest toil at the department. No 
man ever worked harder to master the details of unaccustomed duties, 
and no man, probably, ever encountered greater difficulties. But such 
was his perseverance that he became a walking glossary of information 
on army legal affairs. It was not that he ever mastered the niceties of 
martial jurisprudence, but he knew the inside history of every case that 
came up for trial in the bulky records of the bureau. He could quote 
the charges and specifications preferred against any and every officer, 
the findings of the court, the names of the principal witnesses, of the 
judge-advocate and the members, and little by little the seniors in the 
office had grown so to lean upon his memory and his opinion that he 
became an almost indispensable feature. And so when Peace once more 
spread her wings over the troubled walls of the Capitol, and the army 
was sent home, and a chosen few were retained from the million of 
volunteers to close up the records and accounts of that vast establish- 
ment, the bureau announced that it couldn’t get along without Major 
Lawler, and Lawler was shrewd enough to see his way to a life-position. 


220 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


With the brevet of lieutenant-colonel for faithful and meritorious ser- 
vices during a war in which he had not once heard the whistle of a 
bullet, he was presently announced as transferred to the permanent 
establishment and duly commissioned one of the array of officers of the 
regular army. 

At this time his sole acquaintance with the gentlemen with whom 
his future lot was to be cast was what he had derived from the court- 
martial proceedings which for three years he had spent ten to twelve 
hours a day in reviewing; and, knowing them through that medium 
alone, it became somewhat difficult for him to estimate them through 
any other when at last he was ordered to duty at a far- Western city as 
judge-advocate of a division. He had been so many years within the 
shadow of the War Department that array life in any other shape looked 
to him as might a strange garret to an exiled cat. When he met an 
officer for the first time his mind reverted to the records which he had 
reviewed : this was not the man who led the assault on Bloody Angle 
at Spottsylvania, who planted the first colors on the heights of Mission 
Bidge, who made the perilous night ride to Crook after the disaster 
of the Little Horn, but the officer who preferred the charges against 
Colonel Blank, or who was tried for duplicating pay-accounts at Nash- 
ville, or who was the unwilling witness in the case of old Barry at Fort 
Fetterman. To his pragmatical mind every soldier was a past or pros- 
pective figurant before a court-martial, and long contemplation of in- 
numerable counts in the shape of specifications had so charged his mind 
with distrust of his fellow-men that, whatsoever might be his rank or 
record, no officer stood so high as to be above sus})icion, none so im- 
pregnable that, judiciously handled, a court could not down him. I 
consider it my bounden duty,’’ he had once said, to convict an officer 
if I possibly can.” And while in his regard an acquittal might tem- 
porarily and partially vindicate the party accused, it must forever 
blight the fair fame of the judge-advocate who tried the case. 

Some years of rubbing had so far modified his original views as to 
teach him that until charges were actually preferred it was not well to 
look upon any of his new associates as actually and absolutely attainted. 
But, once that formality had been accomplished, primd facie evidence 
of guilt was firmly established, and only with reluctance and inward, 
if not active, rebellion could he bring himself to accept a verdict other- 
wise. Proceedings of courts which convicted he skimmed throuMi 
with lenient eye; there could be no error there. But when, as was 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


221 


his invariable custom, he glanced at the findings before beginning the 
review, and there discovered the unwelcome words “ not guilty,” no 
vigilance could exceed that with which he scrutinized every line of the 
record, hoping anywhere to light upon a flaw. Friends in the service 
at large he neither sought nor made. Secure in his position, abste- 
mious, frugal, and even niggardly, he had no small vices on which to 
trip. Life to him was one long contemplation of the failings of his 
fellow- men. 

And this was the gentleman who, being on some temporary inves- 
tigation within the lines of the department, had received telegraphic 
orders to proceed at once to Ryan and look into the matters thus loudly 
heralded by the press. Standing not upon the order of his going, he 
had taken the first train, and reached the post at nightfall, eager to 
begin. It was a source of positive discomfort to him to find that he 
was expected by the post commander to dine at Captain Lane’s; but 
his uneasiness was in no wise due to the lack of proper apparel. The 
colonel and the other officers were in full uniform, as was army custom 
then, before a merciful and level-headed general authorized the wearing 
of civilian evening dress on such occasions. But Colonel Lawler was 
quite at ease in a travelling-suit of rusty tweeds. Morris had offered 
the colonel the use of his own dress-suit, and in fact had rather urged 
it, as due to Mrs. Lane, but Lawler promptly replied that Mrs. Lane 
must have known when she asked him that he did not travel around 
on military duty with a spike-tailed coat, and declared that he thought 
it all unnecessary. ^^Spike-tailed coats are too high-toned for me, any- 
how. I never see a man in one but what he reminds me of some 
butler I’ve seen in Washington.” Morris said no more, but Mrs. 
Morris had looked volumes, and it was very ruefully indeed that the 
colonel presented his visitor to their gracious hostess. Dinner was 
announced almost immediately, and, ignoring for the time-being the 
young lady whom he had taken in on his arm, Lawler sat for some 
minutes looking in no little surprise about him. The sight of so much 
elegance at a frontier table could only convey to his mind the vague 
impression of peculation in the past. He was surprised to find that 
Lane could have had no connection whatever with ^‘cotton cases” 
during the war. 

And now was this young girl with the big dark eyes, looking so 
frankly yet scrutinizingly up into his face, quizzing him? The fact 
that for nearly a quarter of a century he had been a commissioned 


222 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


officer and was now high in rank, if not in public esteem, had given 
him a certain self-confidence of manner, and the consciousness of being 
the custodian of a host of official secrets added to his sense of self-im- 
portance. Yet, small and suspicious by nature, he was forever looking 
for some covert ridicule. He had come to the board a total stranger 
to Captain and Mrs. Lane, yet he felt a certain sense of superiority to 
them because he could, were he so disposed, tell that young matron a 
host of ugly things about her first husband. Of Lane himself he 
knew little or nothing beyond the fact that the proceedings of courts- 
martial of which he had served as judge-advocate were always correct. 
That he was known in the fighting force of the army as a brilliant and 
gallant soldier, who had been through many a hard campaign and had 
twice or thrice been wounded, was of no avail in Lawler’s eyes. That 
might be a very proper thing in its way, but did not interest him. 
Just now he was casting up in his mind the probable cost of the dainty 
feast and wondering what means Lane had outside his pay. Miss 
Marshall, being from Cincinnati, would doubtless know something, and 
he proposed to put her on the witness-stand forthwith, but, lawyer-like, 
to lead up to the matter by adroit circumlocution. Yet at the first 
clumsily-essayed compliment she had looked up into his face, a merry 
light in her big, dark, scrutinizing eyes, and he became instantly sus- 
picious that she was quizzing him. Lawler reddened at the very 
thought. 

You seem to have a very correct appreciation of the legal profes- 
sion,” he said, however, with an effort at a gallant bow. Most young 
women, I fancy, are far more partial to that of a soldier, for instance.” 

Most women, you know, admire courage and truth and straight- 
forwardness, colonel.” 

And you mean that these are more frequent in the army — that is, 
among the — the officers of the line — than in the legal profession, I 
suppose. Now, Miss Marshall, a celebrated chief justice, from whom 
you may be descended, as you bear the same name, was the embodiment 
of all these traits.” 

And his mantle fell on the shoulders of many, I doubt not, col- 
onel ; but — was it big enough to go round ?” 

I’m afraid you’re satirical. Miss Marshall,” said Lawler, with a 
superior smile. ‘^You young ladies not infrequently see only the 
glamour and froth of army characteristics. We who have spent many 
years in the endeavor to keep the army straight cannot look upon the 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 223 

officers quite as partially as you do. We see both sides of the double 
lives led by so many of the ‘youngsters’ in the line.” 

“ Only by the line, colonel, and by the young officers? Then who 
looks after the staff, and the elders ?” And Miss Marshall’s face was 
bubbling over with fun. 

“ They have stood the test of years. Miss Marshall, and need no 
guardian, as do these young fellows who so captivate school-girls,” an- 
swered Lawler, shifting uneasily in his chair. “ Now, Mrs. Brodie has 
a mature conception of their merits and defects. She was speaking of 
this very case of Mr. Hearn’s a moment ago. — You seem to have 
known him quite a while, Mrs. Brodie. Were you ever stationed to- 
gether ?” 

“ My ! no. Colonel Lawler : only one cannot help hearing things,” 
answered Mrs. Brodie, totally unaware of the facial contortions of her 
better half, who was helplessly, hopelessly striving to catch her eye and 
restrain her tongue. “ Everybody in town seems to think he was such 
a popular young fellow ; only, don’t you know, so careless.” 

Colonel Morris and everybody at Mrs. Lane’s end of the table 
happened to be deep in general chat at the moment, and neither saw 
nor heard anything of this sudden introduction of personal affairs at 
a social occasion. But Mrs. Morris lost no time. She saw Brodie’s 
glowering eyes across the board ; she noted Lawler’s keen, shrewd gaze, 
and the troubled look that flashed over Lane’s kindly face, and had 
just time to whisper to him, “ How can you ever forgive us for bring- 
ing the man ? The colonel was in misery at the idea. He said he knew 
he would be talking ‘shop’ before dinner was half over. I can check 
Mrs. Brodie, at any rate.” Then, aloud, “ Pardon me. Colonel Lawler,” 
and now her face was wreathed in sweetest smiles, “I’m not going to 
let Mrs. Brodie prejudice you against one of my prime favorites.” 

“ Oh, indeed, Mrs. Morris,” protested Mrs. Brodie, “ I wouldn’t 
think of such a thing. I was just going to point out to the colonel the 
very great difference between what he might have been then and what 
he has been ever since he joined the Eleventh.” 

“ But the point at issue seems to be what he was then, as Mrs. 
Brodie puts it,” said Lawler. 

“ But I wouldn’t for the world have you suppose I thought Mr. 
Hearn had done anything that was ungentlemanly. I’m only saying 
what rumor was,” burst in Mrs. Brodie again, who had at last caught 
the signals on her husband’s face, and now only sought to excuse her 


224 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


own impetuosity, even though in so doing she more deeply involved 
the young gentleman himself. “ I can’t bear to hear such things said 
of him without any one to defend him ; but what can one do?” 

This was getting simply unbearable. While all at the other end 
of the table were having a merry, laughing chat, here was this profes- 
sional investigator — an accidental and by no means welcome guest — 
taking advantage of the circumstances and of the well-known volu- 
bility of Mrs. Brodie to start her on the subject which called him to 
the post, and striving at a social party to pick up points.” 

By Jove !” muttered Captain Cross, he’s as bad as Mr. Abrams 
himself. What can we do to stop him? Nothing short of Divine 
Providence will ever stop Mrs. Brodie.” 

But the desired interposition came. Footsteps were heard on the 
piazza beyond the hall. The Chinaman, answering the summons to 
the door, came back, raising the portiere that hung heavily over the 
entrance, and handed his master a card. Lane took it, and glanced 
quickly at Colonel Lawler. 

If you will excuse me,” said the latter, rising at once, these are 
gentlemen whom I telegraphed to meet me, and I will save time by 
seeing them here. I will just ask them into your parlor, Captain 
Lane.” And, quitting the room, he passed through the hall-way and 
met his untimely callers at the door. Sam came shuffling back an 
instant after, having gone to turn up the parlor lights, and Miss Mar- 
shall, glancing over her left shoulder as the portiere was again raised, 
saw that one of the men thus introduced beneath the captain’s roof was 
the German Jew, Schonberg. Lane, busy in striving to restore the 
tone of general chat, did not see them at all. 

It was an hour later. The ladies had risen and betaken themselves 
to the front piazza ; the men remained to smoke a cigar with their 
host. The absence of the legal luminary, oddly enough, had dispelled 
the atmosphere of gloom that hung for a few minutes about the lower 
end of the table. He and his strange visitors were still closeted, so to 
speak, in the parlor, but now they came forth. In some mysterious 
way every woman had by this time learned that Mr. Schonberg was 
there, and at the sound of the opening parlor door and of the mel- 
lifluous accents of that gentleman’s voice they instinctively huddled to 
the other end of the piazza. Lawler walked with the two men as far 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


225 

as the gate, and, when they finally disappeared in the direction of the 
store, came sauntering back to join tlie ladies. 

“ As I don’t smoke,” he said, I will take my enjoyment here. 
Where shall I sit?” 

“ Take this chair. Colonel Lawler,” said Miss Marshall, noting the 
aversion with which all the others of the party had become inspired. 
‘‘ May I send for cofiee for you ?” 

Miss Marshall, I have no small vices. I never drink anything 
stronger than milk; never smoke; never chew; never swear.” 

Never even swear, colonel ?” 

Never. What is it you are smiling at?” 

Have you ever read the works of Josh Billings, Colonel Lawler?” 

I have no time to waste on nonsense. Miss Marshall. And I 
never could see anything funny or witty in such men as Billings and 
Artemus Ward.” 

“ Well, it wasn’t his fun I was thinking of quite so much just now 
as his insight into character,” said the young lady, musingly, as she 
still gravely looked him over with her big eyes. 

Two young officers came strolling along the walk at the moment, 
and, passing beneath the lamp, raised their caps in salutation to the 
ladies. Miss Marshall nodded and smiled with marked cordiality. 

“ All wasted. Miss Marshall : they could not see it.” 

No, colonel, and I particularly wanted one of them at least to do 
so. Now, that’s a part of the army that I decidedly like.” 

Who are they, may I ask ?” 

Mr. Wallace and his especial friend, Mr. Hearn.” 

And is it possible that you find such young men to your taste? I 
gave you credit for having rather a higher standard.” 

“ But it is their standard that I so much admire. Colonel Lawler. 
I don’t suppose anything would tempt either of those young men to 
say or do a mean or cowardly thing.” 

^^No?” said the colonel, with a superior smile; ^^and yet, do you 
know, I’m ready to stake my professional reputation that one of them 
at least is quite unworthy your trust or confidence.” 

Now, are you not a trifle prejudiced, colonel ? I thought the law 
presumed a man innocent until proved guilty.” 

Theoretically, yes ; practically, men who have studied human 
nature through the courts, as I have had to, get to see through the 
veneering of high tone that these ‘ youngsters’ are so apt to assume.” 

16 


226 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


And so yon are probably quite ready to agree with the cor- 
respondent of the Palladiuniy colonel, that most officers are frauds, 
especially the second lieutenants?^’ 

“My experience has certainly not given me a high opinion of the 
young men, Miss Marshall.” 

“ And, now, do you know, colonel, my intuition is very much in 
their favor.” 

“ But is your intuition as well founded, do you think, as long legal 
experience ?” 

“ Well, your experience has been confined to the limited few that 
have come before courts-martial, has it not? My intuition covers the 
great array of their number, — the ninety-and-nine. Now, I haven’t 
any especial knowledge of the matter you seem to be investigating, 
Colonel Lawler, but I fancy that evidence such as Mr. Schonberg 
might give would have little weight before a court of intelligent men.” 

“ You will change your mind when you come to see the books, 
young lady.” 

“ Have you changed yours ?” 

“ No : they simply confirmed my judgment.” 

“ Then my intuition was right, colonel.” 

“ How so, may I ask ?” 

“It told me that you had prejudged the case.” 

At this moment the officers came sauntering out into the open air, 
joining the group of ladies, who had fled back to the western end of 
the piazza as soon as they saw their obnoxious visitor safely anchored 
by Miss Marshall’s side. 

“ Where’s Lawler ?” queried Morris, in no pleasant tone. “ Has 
he gone off with those fellows ?” 

“ No ; I’m here, colonel, getting a lesson in law which this young 
lady is so good as to give me.” Miss Marshall flushed at the dis- 
courtesy in his tone, but gave no other sign. “ I shall expect to see 
you appearing in the rdle of counsellor yet. Miss Marshall.” 

“Very well, colonel; if it ever comes to that I shall fall back on 
ray intuition.” 

Miss Marshall’s cheeks were still flushed and her eyes had a dan- 
gerous gleam under their dark and fringing lashes when she stepped a 
moment after into the lately-desecrated parlor. 

“ You appear to have had quite a tilt with our friend the judge- 
advocate,” said Lane, who had come in for more cigars for his guests. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


227 


I think I once told you I would not care to be cross-examined by 
you, Miss Marshall ; and it looks as though he were not a little nettled.” 

I hope I haven’t been rude to a guest of yours, Captain Lane ; 
but that gentleman makes me wish over and over again that I were a 
man. Did you know who his callers were ?” 

“I have just heard,” said Lane. 

There was sudden lull in the conversation on the piazza without, 
then the colonel spoke quickly : 

“ I wonder what that can be. That fellow yells in earnest, doesn’t 
he?” 

What is it ?” asked Lane, stepping to the door. 

“Number Eight yelling for the corporal of the guard. Yonder 
they go.” 

Captain Cross, who was officer of the day, had quietly picked up 
his sword and hurried out of the southwest gate, while down the road- 
way could be heard the sound of rapid foot-falls. The call, however, 
was not repeated. Conversation soon became brisk and general, and in 
five minutes Cross came back. 

“ What was the matter?” asked Colonel Morris. 

“ Some civilians, sir, and one of our men, in a buggy, who said 
they came out by order of the general commanding the division, and 
had been detained here until after taps.” 

“ Certainly ; that’s all right. Those were doubtless the witnesses 
Colonel Lawler sent for. Why wasn’t the corporal of the guard sent 
down with them to pass them out ?” 

“ Their buggy w’as tied the other side of the store, sir, and no one 
at the guard-house could see them start.” 

“ Well, the sentry ought to have let them go anyhow, as soon as he 
saw who they were. We have no authority to hold civilians here.” 

“ It wasn’t the civilians the sentry was after, sir ; he was perfectly 
willing they should go ; but they had an enlisted man with them.” 

“ Who ?” asked Morris, with uncomfortable premonition of the 
answer. 

“Private Welsh, sir, of C troop.” 

XL 

The week that followed the advent at Fort Kyan of the staff-officer 
from division head-quarters was one that the good people at the post 


228 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


have not yet ceased talking about. Lawler had remained in the gar- 
rison only twenty-four hours, and went back eastward without a word 
as to his intentions, and, to the surprise of even Colonel Morris, with- 
out having sent for or spoken to the man most interested in his coming, 
— Lieutenant Hearn. This in itself was something that excited most 
unfavorable comment, for it was known that he had had long interviews 
with Mr. Abrams, the busy representative of the press, and that he had 
driven in town to spend some hours in questioning certain dubious- 
looking citizens presented to him one by one at the establishment of 
Mr. Schonberg. He had furthermore sent to the guard-house for 
Trooper Welsh, — once again there incarcerated by order of Captain 
Cross, who as officer of the day had arrested him for attempting to 
slip across sentry’s post the previous night. And once again, to the 
dismay of the cavalry officers and the unconcealed ridicule of the 
infantry battalion. Colonel Morris had directed Welsh’s immediate 
release. 

It was a misunderstanding, probably. Captain Cross,” said the 
colonel, in conciliatory mood, to the old officer of the day, as he relieved 
him after guard-mount. “ Welsh was given to understand that these 
gentlemen, who had just come from an interview with Colonel Lawler, 
had the authority of the department commander to take him to town 
with them, so as to be ready to make certain depositions early in the 
morning.” 

But Cross eyed his commander unflinchingly and said no word. 

Among the infantry officers the opinion was ojienly expressed that 
between Abrams and Lawler and Trooper Welsh the colonel was 
simply demoralized. The crowd at dress-parade for several evenings 
was almost as big as that before spoken of, and, though the Palladium 
man did not again take position on the colonel’s left during the cere- 
mony itself, he was frequently at that officer’s side when he made his 
way through the curious throngs, both in going to and returning from 
his post. And afterwards, with the eyes of the towns-people upon them. 
Private Welsh and the unterrified correspondent paced up and down 
the road in front of the cavalry barracks for half an hour; and the 
group sitting on Lane’s piazza one evening especially could not help 
noting how ostentatiously the two conversed as they neared the white 
wicket-gate. 

“ Wliarton,” quoth Martin, as for the sixth or seventh time the 
swarthy trooper and his champion approached the captain’s quarters, 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


229 


I’m consumed with envy. The time was when good-looking cavalry- 
men. like you and me, could command some small attention from the 
eyes of our friends and fellow-citizens in town ; but our day is done. 
There are the popular heroes of the hour. Now, here comes Hearn’s 
first sergeant. Surely he’s not going to have the unbearable effrontery 
to remind Trooper Welsh that he ought to be cleaning up for guard 
to-morrow, when a gentleman of the press wants to talk with him ?” 

“Is W'elsh for guard to-morrow?” asked Captain Lane, in some 
surprise. 

“ He is. The colonel reliev^ed him from durance vile before 
guard-mount this morning, and I heard the first sergeant tell Hearn 
an hour ago that it was Welsh’s turn for guard, and wanted to know 
whether he was to order him or not. Hearn said certainly.” 

“And the man cut parade to-night on plea that Mr. Abrams 
wanted to talk with him. He was the ^one private absent’ reported 
from C troop,” said Wharton. “ That’s the reason the sergeant is after 
him now, I fancy, either to arrest him, or else warn him for guard.” 

“If I were Hearn I’d quit attempting -to discipline that young 
man,” said Major Kenyon, pessimistic and glowering as ever. “ He 
ought to have sense enough to know that the worst blackguard in the 
service, with the press behind him, is more than a match for any officer 
who seeks to do his duty.” 

“ And if I were Hearn,” drawled Martin, “ I’d make that particu- 
lar of the Palladium do his duty, if I died for it, especially after 

the marked copies that came to-day. Now watch.” 

The first sergeant, a trim, soldierly fellow with determined face and 
manner and quick energetic step, had by this time overtaken the pair 
who, strolling together, had almost reached the picket fence and were 
within ear-shot of the Lanes’ piazza. Mrs. Lane glanced eagerly up 
the road, for Miss Marshall and Lieutenant Hearn at that very mo- 
ment came from the Whartons’ quarters next door and appeared upon 
the gravel walk, Wallace following with Jeannette McCrea. 

Sergeant Wren had stopped short on overtaking the trooper, and, 
with scant ceremony, addressed him in tones that all could hear : 

“Welsh, you’re for guard to-morrow, and you’ve got mighty little 
time in which to get ready. Did the lieutenant excuse you from 
parade ?” 

“ I didn’t ask him. Colonel Lawler was good enough for me.” 

“ Colonel Lawler left the post at five o’clock, and couldn’t have 
wanted you.” 


230 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


“ All the same I was acting under his orders and nobody else’s. 
If you want any other authority you can go to Colonel Morris : I’m 
busy now.” And with his hands in his pockets, and a jerk of the 
head to his companion, Welsh whirled about and led the way down the 
road toward the store, Abrams slowly following in his wake, but look- 
ing back as though curious to see the sequel. The first sergeant stood 
an instant flushing and with wrathful eyes, but raised his hand in 
respectful salute as the young troop-commander came quietly along. 
Miss Marshall leaning on his arm. 

“You warned him for guard, sergeant?” said Hearn, answering 
Wren’s salute. 

“Yes, sir; and he says Colonel Lawler excused him from parade.” 

“ I reported the absence to Colonel Morris, and he tells me that 
there may have been some such understanding, sergeant. At all events, 
as Colonel Lawler has gone, he would give Welsh the benefit of the 
doubt : so we have nothing further to do with that matter.” 

Wren ground his teeth as he briskly strode back to his quarters. 

“ What does the loot’nant say ?” demanded DufPy, as he with half 
a dozen of his comrades clustered about the office, eagerly watching the 
sergeant’s face and his clinching hands, as he returned. 

“ Nothing. Don’t ask questions now, you men. The lieutenant 
can’t do anything to him ; the colonel won’t let him.” 

“ The colonel won’t, is it ?” said Duffy, with a wrathful grin. “ Be 
jabers, if I were colonel I’d command my rigiment, and no damned 
newspaper man would scare me out of it. It’s the Palladium that 

commands Fort Ryan to-night, and that blackguard Welsh is post 

adjutant, — more shame to us all !” 

“ Silence, there, Duffy ! No more of that talk !” ordered Wren, as 
he banged to the door of his own little den, and the knot of troopers 
scattered away. “ All the same,” muttered he to his faithful second. 

Sergeant Ross, “ Duffy only tells the truth, and damn me if I ever 

thought the day would come when my old chief would knuckle down 
like that.” 

And if in garrison circles that night it was predicted that something 
would be the outcome of the detail of Welsh for guard-duty, no one 
was destined to disappointment. He appeared at the appointed time, 
and was curiously scanned by the other members of the troop, as, car- 
bine in hand, he came slowly and indifferently down the stairway just 
as the trumpets began to sound the assembly of the details. Unluckily 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


231 


for everybody who hoped to see Welsh brought up with a round turn 
by the snappy young adjutant, a drizzling rain had set in, and undress 
guard-mounting in overcoats was the result. Welsh’s forage-cap and 
accoutrements might pass muster in a shower, but his full-dress rig 
every man knew to be wofully out of shape, and such was the fellow’s 
unpopularity among his comrades by this time that audible regrets were 
expressed by the men that the weather had gone back on them.” 

‘^Step out, there !” shouted Wren sharply to the dawdling soldier, 
as he gave the command to fall in. 

Get a move on you, Misther Welsh,” laughed Duffy from the 
upper gallery. “ Or don’t they ever shtep out in the excellent family 
down East? Sure, isn’t he a fine-looking, intelligent young man of 
twenty-five ?” 

“Twenty-five? ’Faith, it’s thirty-six in months he’d get, if I was 
commanding,” muttered Kerrigan. “ How are your patriotic motives 
this morning. Mister American-Blood-with-the-Asshumed-Name?” 

“Sure his name is Dennis,” laughed Duffy again. “Quit your 
sneering, Kerrigan. The young soldier’s eyes are blazing with pent- 
up feelings again, don’t you see?” And indeed a most malignant 
scowl was that which Welsh launched aloft at his persecutors, whose 
fun was cut short by the stern voice of Sergeant Koss, ordering silence. 
And in another moment the detail of C troop was dancing away in 
double time, with a parting adjuration from Duffy not to go too fast : 
“it’s too aisy to set the blood boiling in Welsh’s veins, anyhow.” 

It was in the ugliest possible mood that Welsh tossed up Ids carbine 
for the inspection of the officer of the guard. He had expected to pose 
as a hero and martyr. But, whatever might be the mistaken sentiments 
aroused in the East by the efforts of a paper that had exhausted local 
well-springs of scandal and sensation, here among those who knew the 
facts, and, above all, knew him, he had gained only ridicule and con- 
tempt. In all the garrison, now that Goss was gone, there was not a 
soldier who had ever stood his friend. In his own troop especially, 
where the rank and file were devoted to their young lieutenant, there 
was wrath and indignation at his expense, and well he knew that noth- 
ing but discipline saved him from a ducking in the river or a hearty 
kicking down the barrack stairs. Still, with Abrams to stand by him 
and the Palladium to champion his cause, he felt secure against fate ; 
only he had thought to be looked upon as liberator and leader among 
the men, and they were all laughing at him. This was bitter indeed. 


232 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


He almost hoped that the adjutant would order him back, replaced by 
the supernumerary, for the rust he knew to be about the breech-block 
of his carbine, and which the officer of the guard would be sure to dis- 
cover. But the young lieutenant contented himself with pointing to it 
with white-gloved finger and passing on, probably thinking it best to get 
him on duty at any price. 

All day long on guard the men had taken frequent occasion to 
declaim quotations from the Palladium, until by evening stables they 
had rung the changes on Welsh’s excellent family connections, his 
American blood, his patriotic motives in enlisting, his ardor for the 
flag, and his fidelity to his oath, until he was ready to wish to heaven 
the Palladium had singled out anybody else to be the martyr for its 
preconcerted exposition of official tyranny in the army, and heartily 
sick of the part he had been induced to play. 

But where, meantime, was Abrams? The day wore by, and not 
once had he come to the garrison, and Welsh, sulkily plodding up and 
down his muddy ])ost near the stables, and knowing well that every 
time the men looked at him or nudged each other in the ribs they were 
guying him, had earnest desire to see his champion, and to prevent the 
publication of other letters they had projected, since the only effect, 
locally, of the assault upon the good name of his young officer was to 
bring down the indignation of the enlisted men upon himself. It only 
made him rage the more spitefully against Hearn, and he longed for 
an opportunity to vent his spleen. 

When the devil is working in the human breast, opportunity is 
seldom lacking. The evening gun had thundered, the last notes of 
“ retreat” had died away, and the sun, tliat had been obscured all 
morning, went down in a golden radiance, leaving a sheen of beautiful 
color lingering along the crest of the opposite bluffs and reflected in 
myriad millions of rain-drops still clinging to the clumps of buffalo- 
grass. Tempted by the loveliness of the evening, Mrs. Lane had 
ordered out her carriage, and the moment the report had been made 
after retreat roll-call and Mr. Hearn was returning sadly to his own 
quarters. Lane headed him off : 

No. I’m going to take you away from Wallace and Martin to- 
night, and I don’t mean to let old Kenyon get his hands on you again. 
Mrs. Lane and Miss Marshall want you to drive with us an hour or so ; 
then we’ll come back and have a quiet little bite just among ourselves.” 
Aud Hearn pressed the captain’s hand and silently thanked him. 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


233 


Half a dozen of the guard were seated about the rough stone porch 
of the gloomy old guard-house as the carriage came rolling by, and at 
sight of the occupants they quickly laid aside their pipes and respect- 
fully arose and raised their hands in salute. The sentry on No. 1, 
facing sharply to the front, brought his rifle to the carry with a snap 
that made the bayonet ring. The one man who remained seated and 
staring sulkily at the carriage wore the cavalry uniform : it was 
Welsh. 

Both officers noticed the fact as they touched their caps in acknowl- 
edgment of the courtesy of the infantrymen, and exchanged significant 
glances. The ladies, too, were quick to note what had happened, and 
they, too, looked at each other and then somewhat anxiously at Hearn. 
But the carriage whirled along. The instant it had passed. Corporal 
Stein turned on Welsh. So did others of the guard. 

“ What do you mean by sitting there like that was the demand. 

‘‘I know my business,’^ was the surly reply. Just you ^tend to 
yours. You’d better study Tactics and Eegulations before you try to 
learn me anything.” 

Oh, do let the high-spirited scion of our finest families alone, cor- 
poral. Can’t you see it’s turning his stomach to be civil to anybody ?” 
protested a tall infantryman. 

^^Ah, let up, now, on Mr. Welsh, Mulligan — that’s what they 
called ye in the Twenty-Third, — wasn’t it Mulligan ? Or was it Sulli- 
van ? Sure I know the family, and it’s a foine one,” protested Private 
Kelly, his blue eyes twinkling with fun. 

Welsh sprang furiously to his feet, clinching his fist and making 
straight for the laughing little “ dough -boy.” That young Celt, 
though a head shorter than his dark antagonist, in no wise discon- 
certed, stood squarely facing him, and awaited the attack with a grin 
of genuine delight on his freckled face. Stein sprang forward, however, 
and interposed. 

‘‘ No fighting here,” he ordered. Wait till you’re off guard in 
the morning, and settle it then.” 

“ Don’t thwart the gentleman, corporal. Here comes his friend 
the police reporter,” laughed the group of guardsmen. But the un- 
usual chaff l)ad summoned the officer of the guard to the spot, and at 
sight of the lieutenant every Irishman in the party assumed an instan- 
taneous expression of preternatural innocence. Mr. Abrams, too, had 
reined up in front of the trader’s store, a few yards away, and, noting 


234 


AN ARMY PORTIA, 


the little knot of soldiers peering across the road, divined at once that 
something was going on, and so, with the instinct of his profession, 
hastened to the scene in time to catch a part of the colloquy that ensued. 

The corporal tells me the trouble grew out of your refusing to 
rise and salute when Captain Lane passed,’^ said the officer of the 
guard, addressing the stalwart trooper. 

Welsh glanced furtively over his shoulder until sure the Palladium 
man was in range of his voice, and then loudly replied, — 

I’m a member of the guard, sir, and the Regulations forbid guards 
paying compliments of any kind after ^ retreat,’ and I can show you 
the paragraph.” 

You know perfectly well, Welsh, that that applies to the guard 
collectively when under arms, and not to individual members. I want 
no hair-splitting here. See to it that you pay proper courtesy to every 
officer while you’re under my command.” And the lieutenant, a young 
infantryman, with decidedly resolute face, looked squarely into the 
glowering black eyes of the trooper, and then, turning quietly toward 
his little office, his eye lighted on the Palladium man. For an in- 
stant it looked as though he had something to say to him too ; but, 
struck by a sudden thought, he passed in without another word, and 
presently the sergeant of the guard appeared in the door-way. There 
was evident purpose in his coming. 

Half an hour later Welsh was standing some twenty yards away, 
engaged in low-toned eager chat with his civilian friend. The faces of 
both men were clouded, and every little while the gypsy-looking sol- 
dier shot an angry glance toward the guard-house door. Presently 
they moved across the road and headed for the open bar at the trader’s, 
wherein the lamps were just beginning to gleam. Before they reached 
its open portals. Corporal Stein was at their heels and his stern voice 
ordered Welsh to halt : 

‘‘Go back to the guard-house, Welsh: it’s against orders for a 
member of the guard to leave it, and you know it as well as I do.” 

“ My relief don’t go on post for two hours yet, and this gentleman 
has business with me : you’d better not interfere with him.” 

“The gentleman can see you over there. You can’t see him here.” 

Already the sergeant was striding across the road ; the lieutenant 
appeared at the door; a dozen members of the guard were eagerly 
watching the scene. Welsh half turned. Mr. Abrams bent and mut- 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


235 


tered a few words in his ear, but the soldier, after one glance around 
him, shook his head. Slowly and reluctantly he turned. 

“ I’ll get even with you fbr this, Stein,” he hissed. And then, with 
shrugging shoulders, the two objects of general interest — the civilian 
and the enlisted man — slouched back across the road, the eyes of all 
upon them. 

It was at this instant that the rapid whirr of wheels and the click 
of iron-shod hoofs were heard upon the drive, and briskly the Lane 
carriage came around the turn. Lieutenant Lewis stepped out from 
the door-way. Again the sentry faced the road and carried arms; 
again the soldiers of the guard arose, and those about the trader’s door, 
also, faced the road-way ; again the white-gloved hands were raised in 
soldierly salute, and one man only turned his back and slouched away. 
Every soldier within range saw that Welsh was determined to disobey 
the orders he had just received. In six giant leaps the tall sergeant 
had reached his side. 

“ Halt, Welsh, and face about,” he thundered, and then, as the man 
still strove to edge away under the wing of his civilian associate, laid 
a brawny hand upon the hulking shoulder and spun him about as he 
would a top. 

‘‘Heels together, now. Look square at Captain Lane. Now, 
then, damn you, left hand, salute.^^ 

“Not badly done, sergeant,” said Lieutenant Lewis, a moment 
after, as with kindling eyes he reached the spot just as the carriage had 
flashed by. — “ Finish what you have to say to your friend in fifteen 
minutes, Welsh, and then report to me at the guard-room.” — “ Not 
badly done,” he repeated, as he turned away with the tall infantryman 
by his side; “only you shouldn’t have said ‘damn’ in the presence 
of ladies, or,” with a grim smile under his moustache, “or — of the 
press.” 

“ The ladies couldn’t hear, sir, and I meant that the press should. 
I know that according to ‘ Pinafore’ and the Palladium I should have 
said, ‘ if you please.’ But mules and blackguards pay no attention to 
politeness. I’ve been thirty years a soldier, sir, and I know what 
fetches them.” 

XII. 

There were sore hearts at Ryan in the week that followed. As had 
long been anticipated, orders came for the summer practice march to 


236 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


the Indian Territory, and the Eleventh — band and all — had jogged 
away, leaving Major Kenyon to command the post, with his little bat- 
talion of infantry to guard it. The orders were received two days after 
Welslds enlivening tour of guard-duty. The command was to march 
in forty-eight hours, equipped for field-service, and Lieutenant Hearn, 
with the other troop-commanders, was occupied every instant in getting 
his horses and men in thorough shape. Kenyon and Lane, after con- 
sultation among some of his friends, had induced the young fellow to 
promise not to open one of the marked copies of the newspapers which 
now began to crowd in with every mail, but to leave them all to be 
considered by the little council of three in whose hands he had been 
persuaded to rest his case. He had written a full denial of the Palla- 
dium's scandalous statements with regard to his financial entanglements, 
and a full description, as has already been told, of the original trouble 
at the trader’s store with Private Welsh. These had both been duly 
handed to Colonel Morris in his office. Ko one had heard from 
Lawler. No one knew just exactly what disposition the colonel had 
made of these papers. Mr. Abrams, too, had disappeared the day after 
Welsh’s tour of guard-duty ; but the whole garrison now was flooded 
with newspapers by the hundred. It would seem as if the guild of 
the Western press had resolved on a sudden and simultaneous assault 
on the army in general and as if Fort Ryan was the vortex of the 
storm. Sensational despatches were published from various quarters. 
Other journals, envious of the Palladium's exploit, unearthed other 
victims, long since out of the army for general worthlessness, and with 
flaming head-lines displayed to a sympathizing public the tale of official 
abuse and tyranny which had compelled these several gallant and 
patriotic sons of America to quit the service they were so well fitted to 
adorn. Dozens of tramps and tatterdemalions reaped sudden and un- 
expected harvest of eleemosynary quarters and lunches from gaping 
audiences in the beer-saloons by detailing individual experiences of 
their own when serving under Lieutenant this or that in the Eleventh 
Horse or the Thirty-Third Foot. Dozens of Munchausens wore the 
reporters’ pencils down to the wood with details of their harrowing 
sufferings. Then the editorials began, and gravely lectured the people 
on the wrongs of the whole system, — the unrepublican character of an 
army anyhow, the repugnance in the American mind to all idea of dis- 
cipline. Meantime, of course, the Palladium was firing hot shot by the 
ton, and new so-called scandals at Ryan, fresh outrages on the helpless 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


237 


and down-trodden soldiery, were the subjects of Mr. Abrams’s lurid 
delineations, until it was to be wondered at that in their wrath the 
offended public did not wipe the foul blot on their civilization from 
the face of the earth. 

It was on Friday evening that, in answer to certain despatches he 
had been firing at department head-quarters, Colonel Morris received a 
message that at least put him out of uncertainty. That day the Pal- 
ladium had outdone itself, and no one not conversant with the illimit- 
able faculties of the paid correspondent can begin to imagine the heroic 
size attained in its columns by the incident briefly sketched in the last 
chapter : Continued Persecution of Trooper Welsh ! Heaped-up 

Humiliations on his Head ! Forced to Show Slavish Homage to his 
Insulter ! Helpless Wrath of Comrades !” etc. The details of the in- 
cident as told by the special correspondent lost nothing of sensational- 
ism ; and Lieutenant Lewis came in now for his share of obloquy. 
Poor Welsh was represented as having been marched out and with 
brutal curses compelled to salute Lieutenant Hearn, despite the fact 
that he as member of the guard was by law and Pegulations exempted 
from the requirement. In vain did the young soldier plead that 
paragraph 391 of the Regulations fully excused him. His relentless 
persecutors defied the laws of Congress and compelled him to ‘stand 
and deliver’ for the purpose of adding to the indignities already heaped 
upon him. Could the readers of the Palladium have heard the low, 
deep mutterings of the men in the garrison this night, no mutiny on 
their part need have surprised them.” The editor, too, backed up 
his correspondent in a three- quarter-column assault on the ridiculous 
etiquette of the army. “ It may be,” he said, “ all well enough in the 
conscripted camps of Europe, where whole nations are forced to service 
under arms, to exact of the rank and file this slavish exhibition to 
superiors ; but it is an insult to the high intelligence of the soldiers of 
free America, that because a beardless boy happens to have a strap 
upon his shoulder, thousands of scarred veterans should be compelled 
to do him homage. The whole idea of the salute is repugnant to the 
republican mind, and should be abolished ; and for that matter, as we 
have no further use for an army, why stop at the salute?” 

No doubt the ninety-and-nine of the Palladium's readers thought 
their editor was sound, and were as opposed to the idea of that courtesy 
which is officially declared to be “ indispensable among military men,” 


238 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


as to any exhibition thereof in the streets of their own peaceful and 
remarkably well regulated metropolis. 

But Colonel Morris was himself wofully perturbed about this time. 
After immolating Cross and other officers by name, as was to be ex- 
pected, the Palladium man had taken to poking ugly little insinuations 
at the post commander ; and this, thought Morris, was the lieight of 
ingratitude. He was in no pleasant mood when the men came march- 
ing up from stables, and it stung him to see how cordial everybody was 
to Hearn, who, confound it, was the cause of the whole row. The tele- 
gram he had just received settled that matter once and for all ; yet he 
was glad he had an adjutant on whom to devolve the coming duty. 

Ever since Hearn’s trouble began. Captain and Mrs. Lane had lost 
no opportunity to make him understand that they were devotedly his 
friends, and that if he would but come to them in his sense of utter 
wrong the shelter of their home, the welcome of their fireside, would 
be somie compensation at least for the harsh treatment accorded to him 
by the world at large. Thanks to the efforts of the Western news- 
paper, a million or more of free people had learned to look upon his 
name as the synonyme for all that was swaggering, brutal, drunken, 
and bullying ; and it was easy to see that the young soldier was cut to 
the heart. 

But an unexpected ally had been discovered. Hearn, who had at 
first held aloof in solitude, brooding over his troubles, began to show 
decided readiness to come. And though at all times grateful and most 
attentive to Mrs. Lane, that clear-sighted young matron speedily noted 
how his handsome blue eyes would wander about in search of her 
quietly-observant friend, and that ever since the night of her tilt with 
Lawler Miss Marshall’s interest in the case had been quadrupled. 
Now, this was not exactly what Mrs. Lane had planned. She wanted 
Georgia to marry in the army, but she also wanted, and saw nothing 
in the least unreasonable in so wanting, to select that spirited young 
woman’s husband for her. She did not for a moment think that there 
was any danger of Georgia’s falling in love with Hearn. He was sev- 
eral years her senior, to be sure ; he was handsome, distinguished as a 
soldier, a man of unimpeachable character, as modern men go ; but, 
she argued, he is so much younger for his years than Georgia for 
hers.” She had had to think so much for herself, and now the man 
she should marry was — well, not crabbed old Major Kenyon, of course ; 
he was a widower, — sour and yet susceptible. It was only too plain 
that he loved to come to the house and talk with Miss Marshall by th<i 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


239 


hour, especially when the cavalrymen were all down at stables. Neither 
did she want the doctor, whom Jeannette McCrea could have if she 
would only make up her mind to drop Jim Wallace, who was now so 
devoted that the yearning medical man had no chance whatever. No; 
she didn’t see, after all, just the right man for Georgia : still, she had 
always thought of some one so much older, utterly ignoring the fact 
that when left to themselves most women have very different views of 
their own. Not a word had she uttered to Georgia, of course, but to 
her loving and indulgent spouse she had gone so far as to say, — 

It is lovely to see how he is beginning to find comfort in her 

society; but, Fred ” And Madame breaks off, irresolute yet 

suggestive. 

But, Mabel ” responds her gray-eyed lord, with indefiniteness 

equal to her own. 

Just suppose ” And then another pause on her part. 

^^Just suppose what, Mrs. Lane? — that it should snow before 
September ?” 

Now, Fred, you know ; or else you haven’t any eyes for ” 

I haven’t — except for one,” says Lane, parrying the situation with 
the very words he knows will most delight her. 

You absurd boy!” But she comes fluttering across the room to 
reward him as he deserves. What I mean is, Georgia might get to 
think of him.” 

“ Well, everybody is thinking of him just now, and in the light of 
such a catastrophe I suppose I’d have to make him think of her.” 

He does now ; and if he doesn’t — you can’t make people fall in 
love, can you ?” 

Agreed, Mrs. Wisehead. Neither can you prevent it, can you ? 
I know I couldn’t stop a fellow from falling in love with you some 
few years ago, hard as I tried. The more I tried to put you away, the 
more you ke}:>t coming into that fellow’s empty head.” (Here Captain 
Lane is rewarded again, and as soon as able to speak resumes.) ‘‘So 
why worry now ?” 

“ Well, I’m not worrying, exactly, only ” 

“Only what? Every man can’t have a wife like mine. Still, 
wouldn’t she make rather a good one?” 

“Good? Goodness! But the question is to find the right man. 
However, I know what you mean, Fred, — Don’t interfere; so I won’t. 
And there they are chatting in the parlor yet, and it’s time for him to 


240 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


get ready for parade Why, here’s Mr. Mason !” And Mrs. Lane, 

who had slipped into the dining-room, caught sight of the adjutant at 
the front door. 

What is it. Mason ?” asked Lane, a sudden trouble in his eyes, as 
he hurried through the hall. 

‘^The colonel wishes Mr. Wharton to assume command of C 
troop temporarily. I’m ordered to place Hearn in arrest,” was the 
answer, in tones that trembled a little despite Mason’s efforts at impas- 
sibility. 

Lane’s hand was extended, as though to close the parlor door, which 
stood ajar, but he was too late. The clink of the scabbard without had 
already been heard, and almost at the instant Hearn stepped forth into 
the hall. 

You won’t have far to look, old fellow. Here I am.” 

My heaven, Hearn ! I thought to find you over home, or I would 
never have come here on such an errand.” 

“ Never mind ; I am with you. Good-by, captain ; say good- 
afternoon to — to the ladies for me.” 

By Jove! I’m going over with you,” said Lane, snatching a 
forage-cap and springing down the steps. He did not want to en- 
counter the questioning eyes within. 

But Mabel and Georgia Marshall met at the parlor door. 

“ Have you heard — do you know ?” was the faltering question of 
the former. 

‘‘ Hear I Know I Who could help hearing ? Is it not an outrage?” 

XIII. 

If Frank Hearn were a wronged and unhappy man before the 
regiment marched away, his troubles seemed only intensified now. 
Deprived of the command of his troop and confined to his quarters in 
close arrest, he was confronted by a new sorrow, one least expected, yet 
hardest of all to bear. 

The sharp assaults of the Palladium to a certain extent had been 
discontinued. One great and influential journal of the Northwest had 
taken the pains to investigate the situation independently, and was now 
giving its readers the benefit of the facts in the case of the* much-heralded 
martyr Welsh. And when that eminent patriot was thus shown up in 
his true colors the other papers had to moderate their ecstasies on his 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


241 


account. Very few managing editors, indeed, had not already been 
shrewd enough to see what he must inevitably turn out to be. But the 
originators had hoped to effect their onslaught on the army before 
the actual character of their witnesses was exposed. The moment the 
Pioneer came to the rescue it was time for them to change the line of 
attack, for no one of their number dared lock horns on a question of 
fact with a journal so fearless and respected. Still, as a lie can never 
overtake the truth, and as in this case the lie had a week’s start, these 
exponents of the ethics of American journalism had reason to feel mod- 
erately well satisfied. It would be prudent, however, to let the matter 
‘‘simmer” now; and there were other reasons, too: so Mr. Abrams 
was recalled from his mission to Central City, and set to work at the 
foundations of the character of a gentleman just spoken of in connec- 
tion with the coming municipal elections. He had hitherto borne an 
unimpeachable name in the community, but his friends had committed 
the grievous offence of speaking of him for mayor before the Palladium 
had been consulted, and it therefore became the Palladium's duty to 
pull his props from under him. 

Contenting himself for the time-being with the announcement that 
the military authorities at division and army head-quarters had ex- 
pressed their deep sense of obligation to the Palladium for having 
brought to light the scandalous condition of affairs at Fort Ryan, and 
that it had received their assurances that as the result of its efforts 
Lieutenant Hearn would be brought to trial by court-martial, this 
public-spirited journal wisely turned its attention elsewhere. Other 
papers, of course, kept up the hue and cry, but, the Pioneer^s columns 
having warned them that their martyr was, after all, only a scamp, and 
their victim a young officer with a capital military record whom the 
court might, after all, acquit, it became necessary to prepare the public 
mind for such a bouleversement by pitching into military courts in gen- 
eral as “ Star Chamber” affairs, organized only to convict privates and 
whitewash officers; one journal going so far as to announce that a 
“ court-martial for Lieutenant Hearn meant simply that a body of men, 
each and every one of whom was in the daily habit of violating every 
rule of decency and humanity, was to sit in judgment on his case and 
declare him innocent.” 

All this, of course, came duly marked and with pencil comment to 
Mr. Hearn from scores of anonymous senders, as he sat dazed and dis- 
heartened in his cheerless room ; but this was not all. Nearly two 

16 


242 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


weeks had elapsed now since the first assault, and the home letters, for 
which he had looked with mingled fear and longing, had begun to 
come. The first he opened was from his mother. She had received 
the marked copies of the Palladium of the first three or four days, sent 
no one knew by whom, and they were quickly followed by others. 

What was it Thackeray wrote ? — “ There are stories to a man’s dis- 
advantage that the women who .are fondest of him are always the most 
eager to believe.” 

A devoted woman and mother was Mrs. Hearn, but her sole knowl- 
edge of army life was derived from what she had seen around their 
nearly ruined home in a Southern city about the close of the war. 
Frank’s boyhood was spent in straitened circumstances, but little by 
little his father’s toil and pluck had restored their fallen fortunes, and, 
a stanch soldier himself, he could not wonder that the young fellow’s 
heart should be wrapped up in the hope of a commission. Poor Mrs. 
Hearn ! she had looked for something far different, and even her pride 
at Frank’s winning a cadetship at West Point by competitive exami- 
nation did not reconcile her to his entering upon a profession which 
would associate him with such characters as she had seen about the time 
the great army was being disbanded and hundreds of officers seemed 
to have nothing to do but carouse. By the time he was graduated, his 
father’s practice had become so well established as to warrant the 
squire-colonel’s yielding to his wife’s pleadings. Secretly he rather 
wanted the boy to go on in his career, and was prouder of the chevrons 
the handsome young cadet captain had worn than of the old tarnished 
sleeve-knots that he had put away so reverently the day after Appo- 
mattox, where Lee’s kindly hand had rested for a moment on his arm 
when he went to bid his beloved chief adieu. Yielding to her en- 
treaties, he offered Frank good inducements to drop the army and come 
home and study law, but the youngster said his heart was bound up in 
the cavalry. The mother had let him go with prayers and tears. The 
letters from Pyan were buoyant, and made no mention of care or 
trouble of any kind. How could he ask his father’s help when he had 
refused his offer? The colonel rejoiced at the youngster’s indepen- 
dence and decision, although he said nothing to his wife. Then came 
Frank’s orders for Arizona, and Mrs. Hearn sobbed herself to sleep. 
Again the father said, Resign if you like, and I’ll start you here,” 
but in the solitude of his library he kissed the boy’s letter and blessed 
him in his heart of hearts for replying, I wouldn’t be my father’s son 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


243 


were I to resign now, with the prospect of sharp fighting aheacl.’^ 
Heaven ! with what trembling hands and tear-dirnmed eyes he read 
the glowing words of old Captain Rawlins’s despatch telling how 
brilliant and daring the boy had been in the first fierce battle with the 
Apaches ! He draped the stars and stripes over Frank’s picture in 
the parlor, and bade the neighbors in to drink to the New South and 
the old flag, and even Mrs. Hearn, ever pessimistic and filled Avith 
secret dread of vague temptations that she knew not of, fearing them 
more than peril or ambuscade, took heart and strove to rejoice that 
Frank was such a soldier. How shocked and sorrow-stricken they were 
when but a short time after came the tidings of the old captain’s 
lamented death ! How they studied all Frank’s letters, and learned to 
know the regimental officers through his eyes, and longed to meet that 
capital adjutant. Lane, when he came to Cincinnati recruiting! Col- 
onel Hearn even took a few days off and the north-bound flyer” on 
the Queen Crescent to go thither and make the acquaintance of his 
boy’s friend, and sat for hours with Lane at the club, listening to his 
praise of Frank. Then came the eastward move again, and a brief 
leave, and the mother’s heart yearned over her stalwart son, wondering 
at the bronze and tan of his once fair skin and rejoicing in the strength 
of his handsome face. Mother-like, she sought long talks with him 
and strove to catechise him as to what they did when not actually in 
the field. Was there not a great deal of dissipation ? Did they not 
play cards? Were there not too many temptations to drink wine? 
What opportunity had they for attending divine service? etc. So far 
as he himself was concerned, he answered frankly, but as to his com- 
rades, all these questions he had laughingly parried. He had now been 
six years an officer, and had never once asked his father for money, 
yet she nursed her theory that under it all there was something hidden. 
From childhood she had been taught that army life meant frivolity 
and dissipation, if not vice; and now at last, when her husband was 
miles away from home, looking after investments he had made in 
Florida, came this startling and terrible confirmation of her fears. In 
glaring head-lines, in crushing, damning terms, in half a score of 
prominent Northern papers she read of her son as a drunken bully, a 
gambler, an abusive tyrant to the helpless men committed to his charge, 
and, utterly overwhelmed, the poor soul had thrown herself upon her 
knees to implore of Heaven the strength to bear the dreaded blow, and 
wisdom to guide her aright in the effort to reclaim her wayward boy. 


244 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


The gray-haired pastor, for whom she had sent, came and mingled his 
tears and prayers with hers, and then they had between them written 
the letter that was now before him : 

It is but the confirmation of a long-haunting fear. I have all along 
felt that you were holding back something from me, my son ; and God 
only knows how I have prayed that this cup might be spared me and 
this sin averted from you. I dreaded the temptation of army life for one 
of your impulsive temperament. I strove, I rebelled, against the idea 
of your being subjected to such companionship. I hoped against hope 
that it might not be as I feared ; but, alas ! my intuition was right, 
after all. Do not think I am angry, my boy. Do not let this drive 
you from us. As soon as it is over, come home, and all that a mother’s 
love can do shall be done to spare you further bitterness. My first im- 
pulse was to wire your uncle James at Washington to ask if something 
could not be done to avert the court-martial ; but good old Dr. Wayne, 
whose son was in the army before the war, tells me that it is hopeless, 
and that the best that can be done is to get your resignation accepted, 
so that, though you have to quit the service, as he says, it may not be 
by the disgrace of a sentence. I have, therefore, wired James to go at 
once to the Secretary, and Dr. Wayne has also invoked the aid of some 
influential friends. Wire me instantly on receipt of this, that I may 
know that you are bearing up manfully. It will soon be over. May 
God sustain you, my son, is the prayer of your devoted and distracted 

“ Mother. 

P.S. — Frank, my worst anxiety is on your poor father’s account. 
I dread to think of the effect this news will have upon him. He never 
appreciated the danger as I did.” 

And this was the letter poor Hearn was almost raging over when 
the door opened, after a single prefatory bang, and in came the major : 

Hello, lad ! how are you to-day ? The regulations which forbid 
your visiting the commanding officer don’t prevent his coming in to see 
you, I suppose. Anymore newspaper attacks? You couldn’t have 
got much worse if you had been running for President of these United 
States. I see that three papers of my beloved home are now calling 
me ugly names because my brother published a letter in which I had 
the temerity to say to him that Welsh was a sneak and Abrams a slouch 
and you a soldier ; but I never expect anything better. Why, Hearn, 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


245 


my boy, forgive me. Something’s wrong, and here I’m rattling away 
and never seeing it.” 

Read tliat,” said Hearn ; and the major read, with wonderment 
and concern deepening in his grizzled face, then turned away to the 
window with a long whistle. 

“ Well, lad, that is something even I hadn’t thought of. By gad, 
I’m going to write a few lines to your good mother on my own hook : 
she reminds me of mine. Ho ; no shutting yourself up in your bed- 
room now. Come out here on the piazza, where there’s sunshine, and 
where there will be roses presently. Mrs. Lane and Miss Marshall have 
gone over to the hospital with some jellies for Brent, and it’s time for 
them to return. Come out, I say, or, as commanding officer of the post. 
I’ll send a file of the guard to haul you out. You’ve lost three shades 
of tan in four days, and I’m not going to let you mope in here, if I 
have to annul your colonel’s order of close arrest and give you extended 
limits. Come out.” 

There was no resisting the major ; there was no resisting the deeper 
longing in his heart. Every day since his incarceration Mrs. Lane had 
found means to send him some friendly little note, together with dainties 
of domestic manufacture ; every day she and Miss Marshall had ap- 
peared at least once or twice upon the walk in front, although he could 
not join them ; and now they were interesting themselves in Corporal 
Brent, said the major, and the corporal was getting well enough to be 
read to a little while and to see some of his chums for a few minutes 
and to inquire how he had been hurt. Kenyon fairly towed his prisoner 
out through the hall and landed him on the veranda just as the noon- 
day drum was sounding orderly call, then rattling out Roast Beef of 
Old England” in hoarse accompaniment to the piping of the fife. 

Half an hour later, two parasols could be distinguished above the 
low shrubbery farther east along the row, and the ladies on Burnham’s 
veranda, where the doctor was seated in clover, now that Wallace had 
ridden away, stepped forward to the hedge and accosted the bearers and 
strove to persuade them to stay. Hearn’s heart seemed to halt in pro- 
test, then pounded gladly away again, for the delay was but momentary, 
— phenomenally short for feminine chats ; but the mail was coming, and 
Mrs. Lane was impatient to get her letters. Once more the parasols 
came floating along above the hedge. One, held some six inches higher 
than the other, was on the outside, farthest from the fence. That was 
hers, and she it must be who would first come in sight from behind the 


246 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


big lilac-bush in Brodie’s yard. If Mrs. Brodie should happen to see 
them and stop them ! But no ; Mrs. Brodie went across the parade to 
the Crosses’ half an hour ago, thank heaven. Hearn’s eager eyes were 
fixed upon the outer edge of that lovely lilac screen, longing for the first 
glance of the face he had seen in his dreams night and day now for 
nearly a week. If she were thinking of him, if he were anything to 
her, would not she be apt to look toward this veranda the instant she 
hove in sight around that sheltering bush ? Yonder they come now,” 
said Kenyon, slowly lowering his boot-heels from the balcony rail. 

I’m going to stop them at the gate to see how Brent is.” 

Another instant, and once more the floating fringes of the outer 
parasol came sailing slowly into sight beyond the lilacs, then the white 
ferrule, a daintily-gloved hand, a white-draped shoulder, then a proudly- 
poised, dark-haired head, thick, low-arched eyebrows and long curling 
lashes through a flimsy web of veil that hung almost to the rosy lips, 
close compressed ; then sudden upward sweep of lash, a quick, straight 
glance from two deep, dark eyes, a gleam of joy, of glad recognition, 
an instant parting of the curving lips and a ilash of white, even teeth, 
and Hearn’s heart throbbed and bounded. She had seen him instantly, 
and was glad. 

Yet it was Mrs. Lane who had to do most of the talking, for 
Georgia Marshall was strangely silent. Every now and then her eyes 
seemed to take quick note of the pallor of his face and the lines of care 
and trouble. Kenyon had held open the gate and quietly steered the 
two ladies to the veranda, where Hearn was hastily placing chairs ; and 
though the mail-orderly was approaching and Mrs. Lane knew there 
must be letters from her captain, she could not take Georgia instantly 
away, and so for a few moments they sat there, in their dainty summer 
gowns and with deep sympathy in their eyes, — eyes so different in color, 
yet so like in expression, they would have cheered a sorer heart than 
Hearn’s. 

The orderly carrying the mail came briskly in at the gate. 

I left Mrs. Lane’s letters at the house, ma’am,” he said, as he 
handed a package to Kenyon and proceeded to unload half a dozen 
bulky newspapers on Hearn. Kenyon had opened his official letter 
with brief excuse me,” and then began to chuckle : 

“Hearn, my boy, they mean to do you all proper honor. Just 
look at this detail, will you? Four or five colonels and majors and 


AN ARMV PORTIA. 247 

half a dozen captains to sit in judgment, and well, if this don’t 

beat all ! old Lawler himself for judge-advocate.” 

Hearn’s face was flushing and paling by turns. 

You don’t mean that Co'lonel Lawler himself is detailed?” 

“ Certainly I do ; and what do you want to bet the Palladium 
doesn’t say that this was done in deference to its suggestion that no 
biassed associates of the accused officer should be allowed to officiate, 
as the people will tolerate no whitewashing of character in this most 
flagrant case, or words to that effect? Oh, I know those fellows! 
There’s more conceit in one newspaper office in my beloved home than 
in all the armies in Christendom.” 

The ladies had risen, Mrs. Lane’s eyes saying plainly to her friend, 
We ought to go.” 

Does the court meet here?” asked Hearn, quietly. ^‘Please don’t 
go, Mrs. Lane, — not just yet.” 

“ Indeed we must, Mr. Hearn. I know you need to confer with 
the major now, and we will only be in the way.” 

Hearn’s eyes had sought Miss Marshall’s. She was standing by 
the balcony with half-averted face, yet listening intently. 

The court meets here, and on Monday of next week. Verily, 
Hearn, public wrath demands a prompt trial of your villany. Now, 
with Lawler to prosecute, you’ll need a friend to defend. Who is it 
to be ?” 

I have not asked any one,” said Hearn, slowly. The charges 
have not yet reached me. I do not know of what I am to be accused, 
W’ho are the witnesses, or anything about it. Whom could I ask to 
oppose Lawler?” 

Miss Marshall had slowly turned, and now looked full at Kenyon’s 
troubled face. Her slender hands were clasping; her breath seemed 
to come and go almost too quickly. 

“ There’s no man here fit to advise you, Hearn, and I know of no 
one quite a match in subterfuge for that ‘ Tombs Lawler,’ ” was the re- 
luctant answer. 

Then I’ll fight it out alone as best I can,” said Hearn, at last. 

The ladies were going; Mrs. Lane was down the steps already, and 
the major gallantly striving to raise her parasol. Hearn had clasped 
Miss Marshall’s slender hand as she turned to say adieu, and the frank 
cordial pressure emboldened him. He would have held it firmly, but 
as firmly, yet gently, it was withdrawn. 


248 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


Only a week yet, Mr. Hearn, she spoke, her bosom rising and 
falling quickly. “ Is there no officer you know to take up this case 
for you 

I fear not, Miss Marshall. You know I’m not even a first lieu- 
tenant yet ; and he is a lieutenant-colonel.” 

She looked up one instant in his eyes, then with sudden impulsive 
movement held forth the hand she had just withdrawn. 

“ Good-by,” she said, turned quickly, and was gone. 

For a moment the two friends walked on in silence. 

A penny for your thoughts, Georgia.” 

I wish I were a man.” 

On his account, is it ? Don’t you know — he would far, far rather 
have you just as you are?” 

XIV. 

A general court-martial was in session at Ryan, and for three days 
had been sitting in judgment on Lieutenant Hearn. It was the first 
occasion in many a long year on which Colonel Lawler had appeared 
in the role of judge-advocate, that complex and contradictory position 
wherein the so-called legal adviser of the court, having prosecuted in 
the name of the government to the extent of his ability, proceeds to 
demolish his own elaborately-planned attack. It is the not infrequent 
result of such a system that the exertions of the prosecution so exhaust 
its representatives that the defence is left to its own devices, and in the 
case of Colonel Lawler, as has been said, he had always held that when 
an officer was under trial the moral obligation of the government was 
to find him guilty, if a possible thing. 

No one on the court could quite understand why Lawler had been 
detailed for this duty. It was a most unusual thing to call upon the 
officers of the department of military justice itself to furnish the pros- 
ecutor; rather was it their province to remain at the office of the 
division or department commander, and, in reviewing the records, to 
sit in judgment on the judges. But the Palladium^ true to Kenyon’s 
prophecy, was not slow in explaining the situation. It was a case in 
which the whole people, with itself as their representative, had de- 
manded the trial of the officer who dared maltreat the man. No ordi- 
nary occasion was this, but one to attract wide attention throughout the 
entire nation and be daily reported by the press. Colonel Lawler saw 
opportunity for distinction hitherto unequalled ; he ashed of his general 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


249 


the detail as judge-advocate of the court, and the general, though 
surprised, saw no way to refuse. 

So carefully had the court been chosen that of its entire array of 
thirteen members every man was personally a stranger to the young 
soldier whose fate lay in their hands. Of all his regiment not another 
officer was at the post when the court began to arrive, and the only 
soldier — heaven save the mark ! — was Welsh, now assigned, much to 
their disgust, to Captain Brodie’s company of the infantry for rations 
and quarters until his evidence should be given ; and Welsh was the 
constant centre of a group of newspaper men now billeted at Central 
City and resenting it not a little that they were not invited to put up 
at the fort. 

But, as matters stood, the fort was already taxed to its utmost 
capacity : the only quarters in which there was room for the arriving 
gentlemen were those of the absent cavalry officers. Mrs. Morris had 
two spare rooms, and promptly invited Colonels Grace and Maitland, 
old friends of her husband, to be her guests. Kenyon took in three of 
the seniors. Mrs. Wharton happened to know Captain Chase, who was 
one of the detail, and scandalized Mrs. Brodie by borrowing the Lane 
barouche, meeting him at the depot, and driving him straight to her roof. 

Mind you,^’ said that young matron, “ every man on this court 
shan’t go to its first session without knowing something of Frank 
Hearn’s real character. I only wish I had room for more.” 

Mrs. Lane had no spare bedroom, but bade her regimental friends 
who had, to fill them up with members of the court. Georgia and I 
will board the whole array, if you will only let us,” she declared. 
“ I’ll set a lunch for the court at noon, and dine the entire party 
at seven every day they are here, if some one will only agree to take 
Colonel Lawler.” 

Nobody wanted Lawler, and so he was one of the three relegated to 
the gloomy precincts of old Kenyon’s quarters and compelled to rough 
it at bachelor mess. It was arranged that eight members of the court 
should be quartered among the cavalry homesteads and otherwise be 
entertained at the Lanes’. Of Such are the expedients to which gar- 
risons are subject. 

It was not until Monday afternoon that the court began its session. 
Two officers had telegraphed that they could not reach the post until 
the arrival of the noon train ; but all that morning and most of Sunday 
the judge-advocate had been bustling about the garrison, full of im- 


250 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


portance and entlmsiasra. Recognizing the interest felt in the case by 
an entire neighborhood, and sedulously active in providing for the 
needs of the press, Lawler had caused the quarters of C troop to be 
cleared of all the iron bunks. Arm-racks and lockers were shifted 
away ; a long table had been brought up from the mess-room under- 
neath and set in the middle of the big room, the president’s chair at 
the liead, his own at the foot, those of the members at the sides. 
Another long table was provided for the swarm of newspaper corre- 
spondents, and then, for the general public, the mess-rooms of tlie 
cavalry had been ransacked, and benches and chairs to accommodate 
several hundred people ranged about the room. It was Saturday night 
when Lawler arrived and was met by Major Kenyon and escorted to 
his quarters. 

“You might tell Mr. Hearn that whatever he may desire to say to 
me about the case I can hear to-night. You have no objection to his 
coming to your quarters, I suppose?” 

“ Lord, no ! I like it. So does he, generally ; but if you want to 
see Hearn you’ll have to go yourself.” 

“Why?” said Lawler, reddening. “He ought to know that it is 
to his interest to seek the advice and assistance of the judge-advocate. 
Of course he knows that I must do my full duty in prosecuting the 
case ; but, outside of that, any service I can render him he has a right 
to call for.” 

“ Oh, he understands ; but, as he was given no opportunity to speak 
for himself when you were investigating the case, I fancy he will ask 
none now, until he comes before the court. Then you probably will 
hear from him.” 

“ It might be very much better if he were to frankly consult the 
judge-advocate,” said Lawler, gazing keenly at Kenyon from under his 
shaggy brows. 

“Very much better for the prosecution. But — how better for 

him ?” 


“Well, those young men never gain anything by fighting a case. 
He had much better throw himself on the clemency of the court. But 
I suppose some one has undertaken to defend him ?” Another shrewd 
glance. 

Some one! yes, I’ve heard that several some-ones offered their 
services by first mail the moment it was known you were to be prose- 
cutor. What the devil did you take it for, anyway ?” 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


251 


You seem to forget, Major Kenyon, that it was a matter of very 
grave importance to tiie army as well as to the public,’’ said the colonel, 
with much dignity. Officers who are rash enough to seek to defend 
him can have little conception of the feeling aroused throughout the 
entire North.” 

True,” said Kenyon, with sarcastic emphasis. It’s one of the 
singular traits of some fellows in the army that, instead of meekly 
knuckling under to what they know to be an outrageous misrepresenta- 
tion of themselves and their profession, they should have the consum- 
mate effrontery to resent even newspaper attacks. Now, you can hardly 
conceive it possible, Colonel Lawler, but, do you know, there are actu- 
ally officers who think Hearn a thousand times more sinned against 
than sinning? And, that being their conviction, they are so blind to 
their own interest as to be willing to fight for it. It is incomprehensible 
— to some people ; but it’s a fact.” 

And — will it be believed ? — when Colonel Lawler sent his orderly 
to say that he would receive Hearn at Major Kenyon’s quarters in case 
he desired to see him, the orderly came back with the lieutenant’s 
compliments and the singular response that the lieutenant knew of no 
reason whatever why he should want to see the colonel at any time. 

Lawler had conceived it his duty then to accost Mr. Hearn on the 
piazza of his quarters, and blandly to inform him that he was entitled, 
if he saw fit, to call in the services of some suitable friend as amicus 
cu7'ice. Brodie and Cross were both sitting there at the moment, and 
glanced at each other with a grin, as Hearn coolly looked the judge- 
advocate straight in the eye and remarked that he was aware of the 
fact. 

I thought you might not know it, and I desired to say that I 
should interpose no objection,” said Lawler. 

am not aware. Colonel Lawler, that it is the judge-advocate 
who either denies or consents. It is the court, as I understand it, that 
settles the question.” And Lawler went away with tingling ears. 
Hearn’s temper was being sorely tried. No less than four times that 
Sunday morning had he been called upon by gentlemen representing 
themselves as correspondents for some paper or other, each one of whom 
desired to interview him as to the line of defence he proposed adopting, 
and really seemed astonished that he should decline to give any infor- 
mation on the subject. And Hearn’s replies to Lawler had been buzzed 
around the garrison with added emphasis at every repetition. 


252 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


And yet, when Monday afternoon came, and, in the presence of a 
crowded array of civilians from all over the neighborhood. Colonel 
Lawler impressively inquired the name of the gentleman whom the 
accused desired to introduce as counsel, and even the fans ceased to 
flutter, and all ears were intent upon the reply, and a dozen pencils 
were poised over the pads on the reporters’ table, Mr. Hearn astonished 
almost all hearers by placidly, even smilingly, responding, — 

Nobody.” 

Why, I understood from gentlemen here at the post that you 
intended to introduce counsel,” said Lawler, much nettled. 

‘‘ With all deference to the court,” said Hearn, “the understanding 
of the judge- advocate is at fault.” 

There was instant titter, and a ripple of applause. The corre- 
spondents glanced quickly at one another and then in surprise at Hearn. 
For a man who refused to talk at their bidding, he was displaying 
unlooked-for ability now. Lawler reddened to the roots of his hair 
and glanced angrily around. 

“ The audience must keep order,” he said. “ You are at liberty 
to witness these proceedings, but audible comment or any levity at 
attempted witticisms on the part of the accused will not be tolerated.” 

But Hearn’s face wore a provokingly placid smile. And the 
president, rapping on the table with the hilt of his sword, called for 
silence and curtly demanded of the judge-advocate that he proceed 
with the case. 

Not ten feet from where Mr. Hearn sat by his little table, whereon 
were his memoranda and a few books, Georgia Marshall, with sparkling 
eyes and flushed cheeks, bent and whispered to Mrs. Lane, — 

“ One for our side.” 

And Mrs. Wharton, catching the eye of some friends across the 
room, very improperly tapped the back of her kid-covered thumb-nails 
together in mute applause. The press and the populace might be with 
the prosecution, but it was easy to see that there were loyal and lavish 
hearts there stanch for the defence. 

The court had not been authorized to sit without regard to hours. 
Lawler argued that in a case of such wide-spread interest the sessions 
should be held when it would be most convenient for the world at large 
to attend, and by adjourning at three P.M., the conventional hour, all 
good citizens would be able to get home in abundance of time, secure 
in the belief that nothing would transpire before they could return to 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


253 


their post of observation on the morrow. Nothing of great consequence 
was accomplished on the first day, beyond the ceremony of swearing the 
court, which Lawler rendered as impressive as possible, the administer- 
ing of the judge-advocate’s oath, which Colonel Grace rattled through 
in a perfunctory style that robbed the legal gentleman of the dramatic 
efiPect he had contemplated, and the reading of the charges and specifi- 
cations, which were breathlessly listened to by the throng and most 
oratorically delivered by the judge-advocate. There was something 
especially fine in the air with which he turned and faced the soldierly 
young officer who, in his trim fatigue uniform, stood opposite to him 
at the table. 

“To the first specification of the first charge, how say you, sir? — 
guilty or not guilty ?” 

And, in the simplest way in the world, the answer came in tones 
sufficiently clear to be audible beyond the open window : 

“ Not guilty.” 

And so to each and every specification and to the charges of conduct 
unbecoming an officer and a gentleman and of conduct prejudicial to 
good order and military discipline. Lieutenant Hearn calmly protested 
his entire innocence, and the pleas were duly recorded. 

Then Colonel Lawler announced that in view of the importance 
and probable length of the case he desired the services of a stenog- 
rapher and requested the authority of the court to call one in. The 
president looked perturbed ; stenographers were expensive, and the 
last court he was on had been rapped over the knuckles for employ- 
ing one, although the record exceeded a hundred and fifty pages in 
length. 

“ How long will you need one, and how soon can you get him 
here?” asked Colonel Grace. 

“ Well, we can get through with the case in very short time with a 
stenographer, but it will take a week at least without one.” He did 
not say, however, that he had one already in the room, in the shape of 
a newspaper man from Chicago. Some of the court began to consult 
among themselves. 

“ Make him write his own proceedings,” whispered Colonel Mait- 
land to the president. “ By gad, he was probably the man that rapped 
your court for employing one there at Omaha last month.” Then he 
scribbled a line and tossed the scrap of paper over to Major Putnam 
on the other side, and passed word down to Captain Thorp, who had 


254 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


been judge-advocate of the court in question. It was evident that the 
members thought that here was an admirable chance to work^^ the 
judge-advocate, a thing seldom enjoyed ; and at last old Grace, hum- 
ming and hawing a little, said that the court could not see the neces- 
sity, in view of the remarks made by division head-quarters on a 
recent case, and must for the present decline the request. Whereat 
Colonel Lawler, in manifest ill humor, remarked that he could be safely 
expected to say what would and wliat would not be approved by the 
division commander, and that, if the court would not order it, he would 
get the order by telegraph. 

^^All right,’^ said the president; ‘^and meantime we’ll proceed 
without one. I suppose you are ready with your first witness, Mr. 
Judge- Advocate ?” 

‘‘ If the court insists, yes ; but I prefer to wait until I hear from 
the telegram which I am now writing.” 

We had better go right ahead,” said Colonel Grace. 

And so, amidst profound silence, the name of the first witness 
was called ; and with the eyes of the entire room upon him, neatly 
dressed, cleanly shaved, and looking his very best. Trooper Welsh was 
ushered in from the outer gallery, was sworn impressively by Lawler, 
and was asked for his name, rank, and regiment, and whether he knew 
the accused. The new correspondent of the Palladium described the 
hasty glance which Welsh cast at the lieutenant as one in which 'Giis 
glowing, dark eyes kindled with the pent-up sense of the wrongs 
and humiliations heaped upon him by the officer in question.” Major 
Kenyon, sitting close by Mrs. Lane, looked at Brodie with swift 
whispered comment on that furtive glance. Miss Marshall never took 
her eyes from the witness’s face. 

State how long you have been in service, and with what company 
you have served.” 

‘‘I’ve been ” then there was a sudden flutter of the eyelids and 

a moment’s hesitation, but only a moment’s, — “ I’ve been in Troop C, 
Eleventh Cavalry, about eight months, stationed here at Fort Kyan. 
I enlisted in St. Louis a year ago.” 

The judge-advocate was just writing out the answer, when Miss 
Marshall leaned over and whispered a word to Kenyon. The major 
nodded appreciatively and looked eagerly along the faces of the 
members of the court across the table. Captain Thorp’s eyes met his, 
and it was Thorp who suddenly spoke : 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


255 


“ Tlie witness has not answered the question, as I understand it.’’ 

He has answered as the court understands it,” said Lawler, 
sharply, and entirely to my satisfaction.” 

“ He may have answered to the satisfaction of the judge-advocate, 
but I suggest that the court can speak for itself,” was Thorp’s cool 
reply. “ The question should have elicited an answer as to the entire 
service, possibly in other commands, on the part of the witness ; and 
he replies only as to C troop.” 

‘‘He has given the exact information I desired,” said Lawler, 
hastily, and all my question was intended to cover. I protest against 
interference with my witnesses.” 

Bang ! came old Grace’s sword-hilt on the table. 

“ It is three o’clock, Mr. Judge- Advocate, and the court will 
adjourn.” 

Lawler drew a long breath, and glanced triumphantly at Thorp. 

But, however little the first day brought forth, the second in no 
wise lacked sensation. Welsh and Mr. Levi Schonberg, in terms most 
emphatic, had described the assault upon the principal witness ; both 
declared that with brutal violence Welsh had been dragged forth from 
the bar-room and then kicked and cuffed all the way to the guard- 
house ; both denied the faintest provocation or excuse ; and then, amid 
oppressive stillness, Mr. Schonberg had described his connection with 
the trader’s establishment six years before, and his knowledge of the 
pecuniary dealings of the accused. In positive terms he asserted that 
old Mr. Braine had lent the accused sums aggregating six hundred 
dollars at different times, and that he had frequently and vainly im- 
portuned him, in letters written by Schonberg, for payment, had been 
ignored, and that finally, when he, after the accused returned to the 
post, strove to collect the amount, he, the witness, was met with curt 
refusal, denials of all indebtedness, and finally with threats and assault. 
Nothing much more connected could well be imagined. Both men 
were positive and precise as to facts and dates, and both when cross- 
examined by the accused stuck stoutly and positively to their versions. 
Another witness was Mrs. Schonberg that was and Mrs. Braine that 
had been, and her testimony, though by no means truculent or positive, 
was largely in support of that of her Jewish spouse. She was sure of 
the loans to Hearn ; sure he had never repaid them ; sure that Braine 
had directed them placed upon the books, and had frequently spoken 


256 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


to her of them, because she thought that he was too open-handed and 
credulous, and had told him so. 

When court adjourned at three P.M. on the second day the case had 
gone dead against Hearn, and Colonel Grace gravely inquired if he 
could not procure counsel even now ; it might still be allowed. But 
Hearn quietly shook his head. Wednesday morning was to have 
brought the redoubtable Mr. Abrams to the scene to aid the case for 
the prosecution, but Colonel Lawler was compelled to say that the wit- 
ness was not forthcoming, and had not even answered telegrams sent 
him. There was some quiet grinning at the reporters’ table, and old 
Kenyon breathed a sigh as he bent over and whispered to Brodie, — 

“ D — n that fellow ! He never meant to come, and Lawler 
knows it. Cross-examination would have broken him all up.” 

But two other civilians were produced, who claimed to be old 
friends of the late trader, and one of these testified that the week be- 
fore his death Mr. Braine had declared that Hearn had refused to repay 
the money and he regarded it as good as lost. Hearn protested against 
this as “ hearsay” and not testimony under oath. Lawler vowed it 
was material and confirmatory, and the court was cleared, to the utter 
indignation of the correspondents thus compelled to quit the room with 
the common herd. Thrice again this happened during the day, and 
people grew disgusted, many of them leaving ; but those who remained, 
including the officers, could see no earthly hope for Hearn. Every- 
thing had been as conclusively proved as such witnesses could establish 
matters, and the only chance lay in the impeachment of their testi- 
mony. 

It was nearly three o’clock on Wednesday when Lawler said that 
if the other witness, Mr. Abrams, did not put in an appearance he 
would rest the case for the prosecution. Colonel Maitland inquired 
why the books of the late post trader had not been produced in court 
in support of Schonberg’s testimony, and Lawler promptly responded 
that they were too bulky to be appended to the record, were property 
of the estate, and he had not considered them necessary. However, if 

the court insisted And the court did. Schonberg was directed to 

bring his books at ten o’clock the next day. 

That evening the party gathered on Lane’s piazza was very silent 
and sad. Kenyon had been there awhile, and gone away with bowed 
head and thoughtful eyes. The defence, of course, had not begun. 
There would be no difficulty in utterly defeating the charge of assault 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


257 


upon the soldier Welsh ; but what worried one and all was the testi- 
mony of Schonberg and Braine^s relict. If that held good with the 
court, then Hearn had been guilty of disgraceful conduct in stating 
orally and in writing that he had long since paid those debts. There 
could be no sentence but dismissal. Hearn had shut himself up in 
his room. That day had brought a long letter from his father, and it 
was this he was studying, sore at heart, when Kenyon entered. 

You haven’t slept a wink for two nights, lad, and I know it,” 
said the major, anxiously, as he studied the worn face of his friend. 

I’m going to call Ingersoll in to prescribe for you.” And, despite 
Hearn’s protest, the orderly was sent for the post surgeon. 

Meantime, with many emphatic nods and humphs,” Kenyon read 
the long, long letter which, without a word, Hearn had placed in his 
hand, finishing it at last, going over several pages, and finally sighing 
deeply as he refolded it : 

“ It is just what I feared, my boy ; it is just what I feared. Still, 
I’m glad he didn’t look upon it as your mother thought he would. 

Wonder what she thought of my letter Hello, here’s Ingersoll 

now.” 

I was at the hospital with Brent,” said the medical man, in some 
haste, and had to go to Lane’s first.” 

‘‘Ko one ill at Lane’s, I hope?” spoke Kenyon, as Hearn’s face 
was suddenly uplifted. “I’ve just come from there.” 

“ Oh, no, no ; but Miss Marshall and Mrs. Lane have been going 
to see Brent every afternoon, and this evening he asked me to take a 
message over there. He wanted to see them to-night, but I had to say 
no ; he’s too feverish. They were much concerned to hear I had been 
called in to see you, Hearn, and I promised to come back at once and 
let them know how you were.” 

A brief examination showed the skilled practitioner the extent of 
Hearn’s malady, and he insisted on his coming out. He would have 
added, “ over to Lane’s piazza,” but members of the court were calling 
there, and it would hardly be the proper thing. Returning thither, 
however, he found the gentlemen gone and Colonel Lawler just seating 
himself for a social call. 

“Nothing serious,” he murmured to the ladies, as he took a chair, 
and in low tone began chatting with the Whartons. It was Lawler’s 
voice that broke the stillness; and Lawler, full of his profession, could 
talk nothing but “shop.” 


17 


258 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


I could not but observe your presence in the court-room, ladies, 
even among the host of curious spectators. And how does a military 
court impress you, Miss Marshall, now that you have seen it?’’ 

I can tell you better when I have seen it all, colonel. Thus far 
we’ve had nothing but the prosecution. It will seem less one-sided 
after the defence.” 

Ah, that, I fear, will hardly amount to anything. The young 
man has been very ill advised, — very. Possibly you heard that I had 
offered him my services, — that is, any in my power to render, — and 
that he had refused ?” 

Miss Marshall simply looked at the colonel a moment, making no 
reply. Finally, — 

“ May I ask what services you could render him ? I thought 
the prosecution was your specialty.” 

“Oh, it is, certainly; that is my bouuden duty. Still, if I knew 
what evidence he had to offer, — what witnesses he meant to call, — any 
experienced lawyer could tell him how' best to conduct the case.” 

Miss Marshall fairly laughed : 

“ That strikes me as one of the most unique ideas I ever heard, 
colonel. If you belonged, we will say, to the combatant force of the 
army, and had a position to defend, would you detail your plan of de- 
fence to the adversary ?” 

“ My dear young lady, you totally misapprehend the peculiar 
mechanism of our system. After having finished the government’s 
side, then I am free to assist the accused.” 

“ And the accused, as I understand it, is free to ‘ play it alone,’ as 
we do in euchre. Now, do you know, I think I would prefer that 
course to having an advocate who was more than half an opposer?” 

“ Well, certainly. Miss Marshall, you cannot congratulate the ac- 
cused on his conduct of the case thus far. He would have stood better 
with the court at this minute if he had taken my advice, as he wouldn’t. 
Then I had only one course to pursue.” 

“Doesn’t that look just a wee bit as though he were being prose- 
cuted for declining eminent legal assistance rather than for alleged 
misconduct?” 

Lawler flushed, and again glanced sharply from under his sandy 
brows and out of the corners of his twinkling eyes. 

“ You have a sharp tongue, young lady,” he said, “but I presume 
your wit is made to match it. It is a pity they could not be brought 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


259 


into requisition in defence of your friend before the court itself. You 
cannot influence me.’’ And he laughed loudly, and glanced around as 
though in triumph. 

“ ’Faith, Lawler, it’s just as lucky for you that Miss Marshall isn’t 
counsel for the accused. You’ll get knocked endwise when it comes to 
the defence, anyhow,” said the doctor. 

You think so, do you? Well, well, we’ll see; we’ll see.” 

The gate had opened, and an orderly entered. 

A telegram for the commanding officer,” he said. 

Kenyon took the brown envelope, tore it open, and stepped to the 
hall door- way, where the light would fall upon the page. A gleam 
of sudden satisfaction shot across his face, and he turned eagerly to- 
ward Miss Marshall, whose dark eyes had followed him. Come,” 
he signalled ; and she rose and went to him. 

“ Read this,” he said, in low tones, as he thrust the paper into her 
hand and sauntered back to his chair. “ I can trust you to keep a 
secret.” 

Lawler gazed after her with unmistakable curiosity, studying her 
face as she read, then turned and looked at Kenyon, who was osten- 
tatiously humming the air Miss Wharton had just begun playing on 
the piano. What did it mean? Was his entertainer in league with 
this girl who so dared him ? Mrs. Lane strove to cover her friend’s 
somewhat abrupt quitting of the group by a timely word or two, but 
her question failed to catch the lawyer’s ears. In a minute Georgia 
was back, had dropped the despatch over Kenyon’s burly shoulder with 
the brief whispered word, Splendid,” and then almost laughingly 
turned on the judge-advocate. 

And now tell me, colonel, isn’t there such a thing as impeaching 
the credibility of witnesses?” 

^^Oh, 1 suppose so in certain cases; but what has that to do with 
mine?” 

“ Yours? Well, one would hardly think your witnesses assailable, 
of course; but even truthful men, you know, are sometimes mistaken.” 

“Books and figures don’t lie. Miss Marshall. You forget the 
books.” 

“ Oh, true ! I forgot the books. And Mr. Schonberg was book- 
keeper, too.” 


260 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


XV. 

Ten o^clock had come; so had the court; so had the public, in 
numbers largely increased. In Central City it was generally under- 
stood that on this day the proceedings would be brought to a close. 
The case for the government would be concluded by the evidence of 
Mr. Abrams, — when he arrived, — and by the exhibition of the books 
of the late concern of Braine & Co. The defence really had not a leg 
to stand on. Everybody in the enterprising community had been 
assured of this fact by the repeated assertions of Mr. Schonberg and 
the oracular announcements of the press; and it was the popular belief 
that all the unfortunate officer could do would be to assail the integrity 
of the witnesses, which attempt would be utterly overthrown by the 
vigilant prosecutor, who would then conclude by a scathing review of 
the evidence, after which the court would promptly adjudge him guilty 
and sentence him to be stripped of his uniform and drummed out 
forthwith. Probably half the populace that thronged the court-room 
that bright June morning fully expected before returning to their 
homes to see an army lieutenant degraded of his rank and thrust forth 
from the reservation at the points of the bayonets of the garrison. 
Dozens there were who knew better; but a community reared on the 
pap of sensationalism as supplied by the modern press could not accept 
the mild and moderate views of the minority as a possibility. 

Ten- fifteen,” said old Grace, thrusting his watch back into the 
breast of his hot uniform coat, and looking about in some impatience. 
‘‘ What keeps Lawler?” 

“ Waiting for that Jew with his books. I believe he’s somewhere 
in that crowd on the piazza. They say his newspaper man hasn’t 
turned up yet ; but I wish you would call the court to order and give 
him a rap for delaying matters.” 

“ Ah ! another ’bus-load from town,” said the president, as there 
entered at the moment a party of ladies, escorted by the sandy- haired 
judge-advocate himself. All around the room the benches were occu- 
pied, but behind this party came three or four soldiers carrying chairs, 
and, much to the disgust of Mrs. Brodie and Mrs. Graves, who had 
obtained, with a party of their friends, the front row nearest the table 
of the accused, these chairs were planted before them, and their view 
was cut off by the households of some of the prominent business-men 
of Central City. So closely did they surround Mr. Hearn that he drew 
his seat a trifle nearer to that of the judge-advocate. 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


261 


There was a little more space on the other side of the table, where 
the correspondents were, but they seemed to prefer not to crowd these 
gentlemen, and nobody, of course, would think of intruding between 
them and the court. It was almost half-after ten when a soldier made 
his way through the throng, and, saluting Lawler, said something in a 
low tone, at which the judge-advocate went over and whispered to 
Grace. A moment later the burly form of Major Kenyon was seen 
shouldering a way through the court-room, while Dr. Ingersoll’s 
spectacled face appeared just behind him. Escorted by these gentle- 
men came Mrs. Lane, fresh, smiling, nodding cheerily to acquaintances 
in the court and around the room, looking cool and radiant in a spring 
costume which attracted the instant attention of the ladies and diverted 
their eyes from Miss Marshall, whose simple but inexpensive toilet was 
hardly worthy their glance, while to the grosser masculine understand- 
ing it was every whit as lovely as that of her friend and hostess. Be- 
hind them all came Sam, with four folding chairs, and, there being no 
other place available, the major promptly plumped them down in front 
of Lawler’s friends and motioned his party to seats. Georgia Mar- 
shall’s color deepened, as any one who looked might see, for the chair 
to which she was assigned was so close to that of Hearn that by simply 
putting forth her hand she could have touched his sleeve. 

H is back was to the door, and he had not seen them enter, yet at 
the perce{)tible hush that fell upon the chatter of the feminine specta- 
tors he knew who must be coming, and his pale face brightened with 
a sudden smile as, turning, he saw her almost at his elbow. Mrs. Lane 
nodded thrice, looking brightly and affectionately in his eyes, before 
she took her seat, just as though her efforts were to show all the throng 
that the women of the army held him guiltless. But Georgia Mar- 
shall’s eyes were hidden for a moment behind their drooping lids. It 
was not until after she was seated, and a glance around had told her 
that the gaze of all women was still on the lovely toilet that Mabel 
wore, that she stole a sudden look at him and met the brave light in 
his wan face. 

Good-morning,” he whispered. ^^I had not looked for anything 
half as good as this, — to have you here so near me.” 

It was my fault we were late; they were waiting for me. I — T 

had been to the hospital with Dr. Ingersoll There’s so much to 

tell you.” 

‘^Has any further news come?” 


262 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


that. Something else, — something better. Don’t you see 
how excited the major is?” 

And indeed old Kenyon seemed fairly aglow. His eyes were snap- 
ping; his face was twitching and redder than ev^er. He was standing 
at that moment, searching all the windows with keen glance and look- 
ing along the faces of the soldiers who had gathered on ail sides of the 
piazza without. Suddenly he seemed to see the features for which he 
was so eagerly looking, and with a quick gesture he called an orderly 
to his side and hastily scribbled these words on a piece of paper : 
“ Tiiat third window on the west. Get around there, and don’t let 
him out of your sight this day.” 

“ Give that to tlie provost-sergeant,” he said. And the orderly 
disappeared. 

Then came the voice of Colonel Grace impatiently demanding of 
the judge-advocate that he proceed, and Lawler, who had been fidget- 
ing uneasily, arose : 

“ May it please the court, tiie witness Abrams has still failed to 
respond ; but the evidence of the other witnesses has been so conclu- 
sive that I feel that I need not detain the court. All that now re- 
mains is to examine the books of the late post trader, which, as you 
have demanded, are here in my possession.” 

The court will come to order,” said Grace, loudly. 

A hush fell on the assembled throng, and all eyes were on the 
judge-advocate, who was busily unwrapping the package which he 
produced from the folds of the linen duster he had, with apparent 
carelessness, thrown upon his chair. Two ordinary-looking, leather- 
bound volumes presently appeared, which he proceeded to lay before 
Colonel Grace ; 

I now liave the honor to submit for the examination of the court 
such books of the former post trader as bear upon this case. In them 
will appear the entries of the various amounts advanced by him to 
the accused, with their dates, etc., and, just as stated by the witness 
Schonberg, it will be seen that no payments, beyond a few trifling sums, 
have been recorded. The amount of the indebtedness as claimed m 
the specifications will be found to agree with the figures.” 

As he spoke, Lawler had opened the volumes at points indicated 
by slips of paper and spread them upon the table. Gi’ace adjusted his 
eye-glasses and conned over one of the books, while Maitland took the 
second. The other members of the court silently awaited their turn. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


263 


I do not profess to be an expert at book-keeping/’ said Maitland, 
presently ; but do I understand the judge-ad v^ocate to say that the 
witness Schonherg swears that these entries are correct ?” 

Lawler briskly turned over the leaves of the record before him. 

Here are his very words,” he said. “ ‘ I myself made entries for 
the years ’83 and ’84, bolh in the day-book and in the ledger. I kept 
all Mr. Braille’s books. He gave me the items just as they occurred, 
and these entries were made by me at the different dates in those years 
just as they were directed by him.’ ” 

“ Oh, yes, yes : I remember,” said the colonel. I suppose it is all 
correct. Possibly other members of the court can tell more about this 
business than I can.” And he passed the book down the table. 

“Nothing could be more confirmatory of Schonberg’s statements,” 
said the judge-advocate, loudly. “One has only to look at these pages. 
You can see that different ink, different jiens, have been used here, — • 
'primd facie evidence of their having been entered at totally different 
times, instead of being jotted down at once, as might be claimed by the 
defence but for this significant fact.” And Lawler looked triumphantly 
about the room, ending with a glance at the little group that was near 
Hearn’s table. 

Miss Marshall was leaning forward, her dark eyes eagerly scanning 
the faces of the members of tiie court, and watching the books as they 
passed from hand to hand. Hearn, pale and patient, seemed waiting 
for the court to finish before asking that he, too, be permitted to exam- 
ine the books. 

“ Do you suppose you could get them one moment ?” whispered 
Miss Marshall to the major, who was sitting at her left. “ 1 had to 
study books and book-keeping once.” 

“ I’ll try,” whispered Kenyon. “ Hearn will, anyhow.” 

It was some time before they reached the foot of the table. Cap- 
tain Thorp and his next neighbor spent several minutes in studying tlie 
dates and figures, and at last handed them successively to the junior 
member. As soon as this gentleman had finished his scrutiny of the 
first. Lieutenant Hearn held forth his hand : 

“ I presume I may be permitted to examine these exhibits?” 

“I submit to the court that the accused has had frequent oppor- 
tunity any time these last three months to examine these books, that he 
has been importuned, even, to do so, time and again, and has contemp- 
tuously refused. In view of these facts, his anxiety to see them now 


264 


AN ARMF PORTIA. 


strikes me as an assumption/^ Lawler’s manner was loud and trucu- 
lent. He knew he was making a point. 

‘‘ Assumption or not/’ said the president, coolly, as Hearn’s face 
flushed hotly under the sting, it is the undoubted right of the accused 
to see any exhibit produced in court.” 

I feel bound, then, to prevent their being improperly dealt with 
while in his handvS,” said Lawler, hanging on to his volumes and bent 
on making the scene as effective as possible. 

‘‘I will take all responsibility, sir. You may be sure the accused 
will not injure them,” was Grace’s prompt and indignant rejoinder. 

And so, having interfered as long as possible, the lawyer grudgingly 
handed the book to Mr. Hearn, ostentatiously holding it open so that 
all near at hand could see the array of items and figures charged against 
him. In doing so he even raised the volume to the level of his own 
slioulder, and the leaf flapped lazily open until it stood in bold relief. 

Never moving from her seat. Miss Marshall, with glowing eyes and 
compressed lips, had silently noted every word and motion. She was 
bending forward eagerly, as though striving at a distance of six or 
seven feet to decipher the writing on the page thus glaringly exhibited. 
When finally Lawler laid it on the table and Mr. Hearn began slowly 
studying the page, she still retained her position. Forgetful, appar- 
ently, of everything around her, the young girl was now so near that 
she could have touched the table at which sat the accused soldier. 

Studying with pained, troubled face, Mr. Hearn at last began slowly 
turning over the pages and looking at the headings of the other accounts. 
There was something which he evidently desired to satisfy himself 
about, yet everything looked straight and plausible. Again bent on 
taking every opportunity to score a point against the accused, Lawler 
suddenly arose : 

“I submit again, if the court will but hear me, that, while the 
accused has been accorded the privilege of examining his long-neglected 
account, he has no right whatever to pry into the affairs of other 
officers. I maintain that he should be compelled to confine his atten- 
tion to his own page ; there is quite enough there.” 

Kenyon suddenly felt a slim white hand gripping his wrist like a 
vice. Hearn was just turning down a page after briefly scanning the 
dates, but a rustle at his side attracted his attention. *To his amaze- 
ment, Miss Marshall had bent forward out of her chair and was eagerly 
motioning and whispering to him : 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


265 


“ Again ! Let me see through that page again.” 

The court was discussing at the instant the question raised by 
Lawler. Maitland and Thorp protested that Hearn had a right to 
compare other accounts with his own if he suspected fraud of any kind. 
Hearn himself, with throbbing heart, could only see and hear her. 
Obedient to her signal, he again raised the leaf, and would have turned 
the book, so that she could read it right side up, but with imperious 
gesture she forbade. 

Hold it as it is,” she signalled, as, still bending low, she seemed 
studying every line of the paper thus vertically placed between her 
and the sunshine flooding in at the open barrack window. 

Quick, now ! More ! more !” she motioned. And, wondering, 
he turned several pages, holding each a moment or two. But she 
shook her head impatiently and signalled, “ Go on !” until in succession 
half a dozen leaves were turned ; then, with eager light in her eyes, 
again she held up a warning hand, and the page was stopped. 

“Very well, then,” Lawler was saying at this moment, with sar- 
castic emphasis. “On the principle that misery loves company, I 
suppose we must accord him the privilege of viewing the accounts of 
his fellow-debtors.” And, with this fresh piece of civil legal practice 
on his lips, the judge- advocate turned to the group on his left and 
stopped short in amaze. 

Hearn, utterly lost to what was going on, was gazing with all his 
eyes at Miss Marshall, who, flushed, eager, almost radiant, once more 
was leaning back in her chair, but signalling to close the book. It 
was Kenyon now who was half rising and whispering sudden impetu- 
ous words to Hearn. 

For a moment Lawler knew not what to think or say. Something 
told him that the cause he represented was in peril. A sense of disaster 
flashed upon him. 

“ At least the accused will have the decency to refrain from exhibit- 
ing officers’ private accounts to the public,” he said, with sudden return 
to his old manner, “and, if he be through with the examination, return 
these exhibits to me, that I may close the case, — unless, perhaps, he 
desires to offer sometliing further upon this subject.” 

Miss Marshall’s fingers were twisting a tiny slip on which she had 
hurriedly pencilled a word or two. One instant more, and it was with 
Hearn. She had bent forward to pick up a fluttering scrap of paper; 
her deft fingers had but for the instant touched his drooping hand. 


266 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


Opening it, he read, ‘‘Hecall Schonberg instantly.’^ Surprised, he 
glanced at her, but purposely she had averted her eyes. Kenyon was 
vehemently nodding. 

‘‘ I must ask that Mr. Schonberg be recalled,’’ said Hearn. There 
is new matter here, upon which I need to question him.” 

‘‘ The accused has already had opportunity to cross-examine the 
witness, and has no further right,” said Lawler. 

I repeat that there is new matter before the court in the introduc- 
tion of these exhibits, on which I have a perfect right to question,” 
replied Hearn. 

It is simply delaying matters,” persisted Lawler. “When the 
accused said he had no further questions to ask, yesterday, I excused 
the witness, and he is now miles away, and cannot be had until morning, 
if he can then.” 

“ The man is not fifty feet aw^ay at this moment,” said Kenyon, with 
sharp emphasis and a voice that rang through the room. 

“ When did the gentleman become counsel in this case, I beg to 
know?” sneered the judge-advocate. “I protest against this disorder 
and interference with the court.” 

“ Major Kenyon gives us important information. Colonel Lawler,” 
said Grace, “ and if the man is here the court desires that he be recalled 
at once.” 

Lawler reddened with wrath. “If you know where he is, call 
him in,” .said he to Kenyon. And all eyes were turned to the door, 
where presently, escorted by the orderly of the court, Mr. Schonberg 
appeared, hat in hand, bowing profusely and politely to the court, yet 
looking, as Mr. Martin expressed it, “ rather })asty about the gills.” 
He was scuttling down the back stairs when headed off by the provost- 
sergeant. He had doubtless heard the summons for his recall, and had 
hoped to get out of the way. All eyes but Hearn’s and Kenyon’s, 
Mabel Lane’s and Georgia’s, were upon him. With lightning speed the 
latter was writing a little note, and this, too, a moment later, was in the 
young lieutenant’s hand. He read it. A wild light of wonderment 
and incredulity leaped into his face. He hastily raised the volume 
between him and the opposite window, held a leaf between him and 
the sunshine, gazed quickly and earnestly, and then, laying the book 
once more on the table, turned with swimming eyes and looked full 
upon her, his lips quivering, his face aglow with joy, hope, gratitude, 
and a fervor of admiration and worship no woman on earth could fail 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


267 


to see ; but Georgia’s downcast face was hidden ; she had drawn her 
fan like Spartan shield between her glowing cheek and the kindling 
eyes she dared not meet. 

It was Lawler’s rasping voice that recalled the young soldier to his 
senses : 

Well, sir, the witness is here.” 

There was a silence as of solitude in the great heated room. Obe- 
dient to the clumsy formality of a military court, Mr. Hearn slowly 
wrote his question on a slip of paper and handed it to the judge-advo- 
cate : the latter read it, threw it down, and pettishly exclaimed, — 

This is mere waste of valuable time, I say. The witness has 
practically answered this all before.” 

What is the question ?” asked the president. 

The accused asks the witness to state to the court what reason he 
has for being so positive about the time these entries were made. So 
long as my witness is positive, I conceive it to be no affair of the defence 
why or how he is.” 

“ Oh, I see no especial object in the question,” said Grace, yet there 
is no impropriety in asking it. At all events, I am entirely willing to 
bear the responsibility. The witness will answer.” 

Could he but have seen the flash of gratitude in Miss Marshall’s 
eyes ! It was only a flash. Almost instantly again they were fixed on 
the pudgy features of the witness. 

Why, certainly, gentlemen, I can answer. Mr. Brainedied in the 
spring of ’85, and couldn’t have told me to make those entries after he 
was dead, could he? No. They were made, just as I said, in the 
winter of ’83 and during the year of ’84, just when he told me to make 
them.” 

Are you satisfied ?” asked the judge-advocate, turning sharply to 
Hearn. 

One moment,” answered that young gentleman, placidly, as his 
pencil rapidly copied another question on the slip before him. Finish- 
ing this, he arose. I beg to ask the especial attention of the court to 
this question,” he said. 

There fell a hush as of death upon the throng. With parted lips 
Georgia Marshall again bent eagerly forward until she could see the 
Jew’s twitching face. Schonberg turned a shade paler and glanced 
half appealingly up at the lawyer, who, with a sneer of assumed con- 
tempt, held forth his hand for the slip. But Hearn looked straight into 


268 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


Lawler’s eyes. The judge-advocate took the paper, turned it carelessly 
over, elevated his nose with apparent indifference, leaned back in his 
chair, glanced at it, — started. 

‘‘ Let me see that book,” he exclaimed, as he sprang to his feet, 
holding forth an eager hand. 

“ Presently, sir,” answered Hearn, holding the volume behind him. 
“ Kindly put the question first.” 

‘‘ Don’t let that book go !” whispered Miss Marshall, hastily, her 
words addressed to Kenyon, yet meant for and heard by Hearn. Mabel 
Lane’s lace was flushing with excitement. Every eye in the room was 
intent on the scene. 

^^What is the question, Mr. Judge-Advocate?” sharply inquired 
Colonel Grace. Why do you seek to suppress it ?” 

I protest against the insinuation, sir. I simply seek to protect an 
honest man from insult. I ask the accused for a book that I may 
satisfy myself he has reason for a question otherwise unjustifiable.” 

“Mr. President, I demand the question as a right!” exclaimed 
Hearn, in tones thrilling with excitement and ringing through the court. 
“ The witness has sworn he made these entries in ’83 and ’84. Look, 
gentlemen, look at this page, one and all, and compel the answer.” 

He sprang forward and laid the book in Grace’s hand : 

“ Hold it to the light, sir. Look at the water-mark. I demand 
an answer to my question.” 

Trembling with emotion, his blue eyes ablaze, his fingers working 
nervously, the young soldier towered above the heads of the court. 
Every breath in all the great room seemed hushed, though hearts beat 
and hammered like mad. All eyes were on Grace now, as he adjusted 
his glasses, held the page aloft, and scrutinized the paper. Then, with 
a quick gleam in his sharp old eyes, he beckoned excitedly to Maitland, 
pointed with his forefinger to the waving lines of the water-marks, 
and dropped the book upon the table, his finger between the leaves, a 
threatening frown on his brow. 

“ Put the question, Mr. Judge- Advocate,” his stern voice was heard 
through the room. — “ And you, sir, answer.” 

Lawler hesitated one minute, glancing dubiously around. Then, 
as though seeing the hopelessness of resistance, he read, in accents that 
trembled despite his efforts, these words : 

“ How was it possible for you to write in ’83 and ’84 on paper that 
was not manufactured until two years afterward ?” 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


269 


XVI. 

When, half an hour later, Colonel Lawler announced that, in view 
of circumstances to which the court appeared to attach so much signifi- 
cance, he would rest the case for the prosecution, he had, despite every 
effort, and the i)rofessional bravado assumed for such occasions, all the 
air of a whipped man. For half a minute after hearing that stunning 
question Mr. Schonberg had sat glaring at the judge-advocate, his eyes 
protruding, his mouth wide open, his face ghastly white. Then he 
mopped his forehead, recalled to himself by Grace’s sharp tones, as the 
president again demanded answer, and faltered out, — 

I ton’t understand the question.” 

You are called upon to explain to this court how it was possible 
for you to have made those entries in ’83 and ’84, as you have solemnly 
sworn you did, wlien the paper itself was not made until 1886,” 
thundered Grace ; “ and the court is waiting for your answer.” 

^‘The paper vasn’t made until 1886?” faltered Schonberg. 

^^No, sir !” fairly shouted the wrathful old soldier in the president’s 
chair. No, sir ! You failed to study the water-marks. Here it is 
repeated on a score of these leaves: ^Sconset Valley Mills, 1886.’ I 
say, explain this if you can.” 

“ I toii’t know anything about that,” muttered the Jew at last, 
gulping down the big lump that arose in his throat. I know when I 
made those entries, anyhow.” 

But the whole roomful could see that the wretch was only lying, — 
desperately lying. The pencils of the correspondents were flying over 
their blocks with furious speed. One excited ambassador of the press 
had already made a lunge through the crowd for the door- way. 

“ Mr. Judge- Advocate,” said the president, at last, I fancy you 
can now excuse your witness from further attendance. Stop, though. — 
Have you anything else you would wish to ask, Mr. Hearn ?” And 
now his manner was all courtesy. 

‘^Not a word, sir,” was the smiling answer. “I shall beg to 
submit the list of my witnesses in a few moments.” 

People seemed to draw aside and make a wide lane for the wretched 
Hebrew and his crest-fallen counsellor, as the latter led his unscrupu- 
lous witness to the outer gallery, whither Lawler said he desired to 
retire for a moment’s consultation. So entire hatl been tlie confidence 


270 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


of the mass of the people in the guilt of the officer that Schonberg’s 
shady reputation had not sufficed to warn them of the possibilities in 
the case. But among educated and better-informed people present there 
broke forth suddenly, after a moment\s breathless silence, a ripple of 
applause that speedily swelled into a joyous burst of hand-clapping 
wliich was taken up all over the room, and for a moment, mingled with 
angry hisses on the part of a few pronounced socialists in the throng, 
who were furious at tlie sudden turn in favor of the hated official class, 
the clamor was unchecked. Stern as he was, old Grace could not deny 
the audience the right of such a reaction. Then he rapped for order. 

“You are not ready, I presume, to proceed with your defence?’’ 
said Lawler, a moment after, as he re-entered the room and glanced 
nervously around. All his airy, confident manner was gone. He 
looked almost dazed. 

“ Certainly,” was the prompt reply. “ Have the goodness to call 
in Private Welsh.” 

“ May it please the court,” said Lawler, “ I submit that the accused 
should furnish the list of witnesses he desires to summon, in order that 
it may be determined for what purpose they are called, and whether 
the expense will be justified,” said Lawler, in response. “And as for 
Welsh, I maintain that that unfortunate trooper has already suffered 
too much at the hands of the accused to warrant his being subjected to 
further ignominy, as he would be if the court allowed such treatment 
as was accorded my last witness.” 

“ If he is at all like your last witness. Colonel Lawler, ignominy 
will not inaptly express the idea,” was Grace’s sarcastic response; 
whereat “ an audible grin” spread over the room. 

“ Do you wish to summon witnesses from abroad, Mr. Hearn ?” 

“ Not one, sir. Every man I need will be at the post by one 
o’clock this afternoon ; and, except Welsh, who is understood to be 
under the especial charge of the judge-advocate and amenable to orders 
from nobody else, I will not trouble the court to call on anybody : the 
others will be glad to come.” 

Lawler shook his head and looked dissatisfied. If he could only 
know the men whom the defence was introducing and could find out 
what they meant to testify, it might be still in his power to avert at least 
public catastrophe. Shrewd enough to see the evident antagonism he 
had created, and knowing that matters were going topsy-turvy at the 
moment, he bethought him of a ruse by whicli he could get rid of the 
crowd : 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


271 


“I bog the indulgence of the court. I have allowed the case for 
the prosecution to rest rather than infringe longer on time that is so 
valuable, but I find myself unable to proceed at this moment, and I 
beg that you take a recess until two 

The court demurred. It was utterly adverse to a recess. Hearn’s 
witnesses were all ready to proceed, — four or five, at least. 

‘‘ Wliat is the need ?” asked Thorp and Maitland, neither of whom 
felt like giving Lawler an inch of leeway. But courtesy to the staff- 
ollicer of the division commander prevailed. 

It was barely eleven o’clock when the throng came pouring forth 
from the court-room, and Lawler hoped that, rather than wait three 
hours, the mass of the people would depart. But his hopes were vain. 
If anything, the number seemed augmented. The noon train brought 
a couple of car-loads from the eastward towns. It also brought a 
sergeant and private of infantry escorting a dilapidated-looking party 
in shabby civilian dress whom old Kenyon, the adjutant, and a file of 
the post-guard were at the station to meet. The stranger was bundled 
into an ambulance and trotted up to the guard-house, into which he 
slouched with hanging head and an air of general dejection ; and while 
the men were at their soldier dinner Kenyon was busily interviewing 
his tough-looking prisoner, a squad of excited newspaper men, mean- 
time, kicking their heels outside and raging at the military assumption 
which gave the post commander precedence over the press. The word 
had gone out all over the crowded garrison that the escaped prisoner 
Goss was recaptured, and the commanding officer’s orderly had been 
rushed with a note to the provost-sergeant. 

^‘You bet he’ll not get away,” muttered this veteran of Brodie’s 
company, as he glanced along the lively mess-room, where the big 
bowls of bean soup were being emptied by rare soldier appetites. 

You bet he don’t, unless he can carry a cart-load of lead in him.” 

Twenty minutes after. Corporal Greene of the guard came to the 
door- way and sung out, — 

‘^Say, fellers, who do you think’s captured and brought back? 
Trooper Goss, begad, the bosom friend of the patriotic Welsh.” 

And Welsh dropped his spoon and his eyes and turned a dirty 
yellow. He essayed presently to quit the table, but the old sergeant 
bent over him : 

Finish yer dinner, me buck. Don’t let eagerness to see yer 
friend spoil yer appetite. You can’t see him, anyway, till he has 


272 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


given his testimony before the court; and they’ll want you, too, Welsh, 
me jewel, and I’m charged not to lose you, — d’ye mind that, Welsh ? — 
and I never lose anything but an occasional slice of me temper. Ate 
yer dinner, like the high-spirited American ye are, now.” But Welsh’s 
appetite was gone. 

The court-room was crowded to suffocation that afternoon when, 
sharp at two o’clock. Colonel Grace rapped for order : 

I suppose you are ready now. Colonel Lawler? Call in the first 
witness.” 

Lawler looked resigned, even martyred. The court had come back 
from luncheon at the Lanes’ in high spirits. The ladies again sat close 
to Hearn’s table. Private Goss, with untrimmed beard and an air of 
general dilapidation, was sworn by the judge-advocate, gave his name, 
rank, regiment, etc., and responded, in answer to Lawler’s question, that 
he did know the accused very well. 

What do you want to ask the witness ?” said Lawler, in a tone 
as much as to say, What could you ask that would be of any earthly 
account ? 

State where and how long you have known Private Welsh, C 
troop. Eleventh Cavalry,” were the words on the pencilled slip, and 
Lawler read them grudgingly. 

“ I’ve known him six or eight years. Knew him when he enlisted 
in the Twenty-Third, where he went by the name of Webster. Served 
with him at Fort Wayne until he got a ‘ bobtail’ discharge, and when 
I got mine I went to his home in Ohio and hunted him up. He owed 
me money, but he was no good, — couldn’t pay it. His people wouldn’t 
do anything more for him. He was Mrs. Blauvelt’s nephew, but she 
had about got tired of trying to support him, so we came away and 
enlisted again, in the cavalry service this time, and then he got things 
fixed to go into Blauvelt’s troop for both of us.” 

What was your reason for deserting here while awaiting trial ?” 
was the next question. 

Well, both Welsh and Schonberg told me I was bound to be con- 
victed. Everything pointed to my being Corporal Brent’s slugger, 
though I swear to God I never left the barracks that night. They 
said if I didn’t get away before the court tried me I might get several 
years in State’s prison at hard labor, and worse still if he didn’t recover. 
Welsh and Schonberg both said that there was no show for me, the 
evidence was so clear, even to the red pepper in the pockets. Some 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


273 


scoundrel put it there, and wore ray things, too. Welsh got put into 
the guard-roora, purposely, opposite ray cell, and threw a stone with a 
string through the grating, and I hauled on it and got a letter from 
him and Sohonberg telling me how to escape. There were saws and 
tallow in the package I drew in, and Schonberg was down in the 
bottom with a buggy after I got out, and he drove me nearly all night 
around by way of Barclay to the other road, and sent me by rail to 
Omaha, where he promised that plenty of money would come to me; but 
no money c^me at all, and I was recognized and arrested by the police.’^ 

‘‘ Had you any idea that there were other reasons for getting you to 
desert than the one given ?’’ 

Lawler bounced up and objected to both question and answer ; but 
both were ordered recorded. 

‘‘ I hadn’t — then,” was the sullen reply : I’m not so sure now. 
That Jew got me to go because I accused him of being a receiver of 
stolen property. It was him Welsh gave the papers he took from the 
lieutenant’s desk in Captain Blauvelt’s quarters. I went there with 
him one night after taps when the lieutenant was officer of the guard, 
and Schonberg gave Welsh ten dollars and me five to keep mum. After 
that Welsh began to run with Schonberg entirely and turn against me, 
and it was through him that I was always getting into trouble.” 

In vain Lawler propounded questions tending to show his witness, 
thus assailed, in a better light; but the more he examined the more 
damaging was Goss’s testimony. At last the witness slouched out 
under escort of a sentinel. 

But a greater sensation still was awaiting the patient listeners in 
the court-room. The next man to enter, leaning heavily on the arm 
of the hospital steward, and accompanied by Dr. Ingersoll, was Corporal 
Brent, looking white and feeble, but very calm and self-possessed. 

Give your full name, rank, and regiment,” said the judge-advocate, 
without looking up. 

‘‘ The name under which I enlisted is Malcolm Brent, corporal 
Company C, — th Infantry.” 

‘‘ The court will note, I trust, the singular character of the witnesses 
introduced by the accused,” said Lawler, promptly. The last, by his 
own admission, is a thief and a deserter whom Welsh very properly 
essayed to cut loose from on discovering his real character ; and now 
we have a second who plainly intimates that the name he gives is not 
his own.” 


18 


274 


AN ARMF PORTIA. 


It is the one by which he is known to military law all the same, 
Colonel Lawler. Please to proceed,’’ said Colonel Grace, testily. 

You know the accused, I presume, or he would not have called 
upon you ?” was Lawler’s snapping query of the witness. 

Only as a soldier knows an officer whom he has every reason to 
respect. I have never exchanged a word with the gentleman, but I 
recognize him as Lieutenant Hearn, of the Eleventh Cavalry.” 

Again there was a ripple of applause in the crowded court, which 
brouglit Lawler, angry and protesting, to his feet. Silence restored, 
he presently read aloud the next question from a slip handed him by 
Mr. Hearn, which he slowly pasted on the sheet before him : 

What do you know with regard to the amounts charged against 
the accused on the books presented before this court and alleged to be 
unpaid ?” 

I know that they were paid long ago. I heard the story of the 
whole transaction from the lips of Captain Rawlins himself.” 

“ Hearsay evidence,” promptly interrupted the judge-advocate, 
rapping on the table. 

But Schonberg’s written acknowledgment and this letter of Captain 
Rawlins will not be so considered,” aiiswered the witness, respectfully, 
and, bending forward, he placed on the judge-advocate’s table a little 
package of papers. The court-room was hushed. Even the pencils of 
the correspondents were arrested. Every eye in all the throng was on 
the pale face of the young corporal. Members of the court had whirled 
around in their chairs, so as to look full upon the new witness. Old 
Kenyon, with lifted spectacles, brimming over with eagerness and ex- 
citement, was fidgeting on his chair. Pretty Mrs. Lane, all smiles, was 
keeping her fan in lively yet noiseless play. Georgia Marshall’s heavily- 
fringed lids were drooping over her downcast eyes ; but the soft, summer 
fabric of her dress rose and fell upon her bosom like the billows of an 
unquiet sea. She was seated where every word of the witness could 
reach her ears, but no longer so near the little table where sat the calm 
young soldier whose trial had nearly reached an end. There was no 
longer need of counsel for the accused ; yet his eyes, time and again, 
glanced yearningly at her. 

Lawler was the first to speak. He dandled the papers contemptu- 
ously as he glanced them over : 

‘‘ These are of no earthly account, — mere forgeries, possibly. One 
only purports to be a duplicate, anyhow.” 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


275 


Duplicate of what, sir? The court will be glad to look at those 
papers wiien you are through with them,’^ said Colonel Grace. 

“ I object to their introduction as evidence, in any event, and pro- 
test against their admission here. What possible business can a corporal 
of infantry be having with the private papers of a deceased officer, any- 
way ? — Where did you know the late Captain Rawlins, — even supposing 
that he did write that letter?’^ 

“ Any question on that score the court may choose to ask I will 
answer,’’ was the reply, with quiet self-possession. “ But I can swear 
to the genuineness of both papers.” 

Captain Thorp had already possessed himself of the duplicate 
receipt, and, after a brief glance, tossed it over to the opposite member. 

Schonberg, without a doubt,” he whispered. 

Meantime, old Grace had received and was conning over the other, 
which he suddenly lowered and looked in amaze at the calm face of the 
witness, then handed it to Maitland, who read, started, and gazed too. 

I know this hand, sir. I know it as that of an old and valued 
friend,” said Maitland, with lips that quivered perceptibly. ‘‘I could 
almost swear to its genuineness myself. It is probably one of the last 
letters the dear old fellow ever wrote, and it is to his boy at college. 
Here, Thorp, you read it aloud.” And, though Lawler would have 
protested, protest was useless. Thorp arose, clicking his heels together 
as though on drill, and, in a voice that was audible all over the big 
room, read : 


“ Fort Graham, New Mexico, June 14, 188-. 

“ My dear Malcolm, — 

It seems hardly possible that three weeks ago I was with you 
under the elms of the old campus, listening to college glees and seeing 
the glad faces of your class-mates, — as manly a set of young fellows as 
it was ever my lot to meet, — and now here I am again in harness under 
a blazing sun, with arid, sandy wastes on every side, and not a leaf 
that is not shrivelled by the fierce rays. I find the old post much as I 
left it ; but I go over to San Carlos in a day or two on court-martial 
duty, and so am writing my letters to-night. 

In the first place, you will be glad to know that the gold leaves 
are in sight. If all goes well, I shall become major of the Seventh 
and be ordered eastward within the next six months. Then I shall fit 
out n)y quarters in cosey style, and as soon as Mamie has finished her 


276 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


next year at Madame’s she shall come and keep house for me and turn 
the heads of the youngsters. Yet I do not want her to marry in the 
army, any more than I want you to enter it. Think of it, Malcolm, 
for twenty-five years now have I followed the standard, and if any- 
thing were to take me away what have I to leave you and May? 
Little or nothing. Even if you were to turn over your modest share 
to her, as you so gayly spoke of doing, and enlisting in hopes of winning 
a commission, she would not have more than enough to keep her from 
want; though so long as your aunt Eleanor lives she will never be in 
need of a home. Ah, well, God spare me a little longer ! I so pray 
to live to see you both happily settled before I am called hence. 

After our talk I cannot but hope that you will see how little there 
is to look forward to in the career of a soldier in our service, — in peace 
times, of course. But if the longing prove too great I will not stand 
in your way. The life has its attractions. You will never have 
stancher or truer friends than those who wear the blue. But it has its 
trials and perils outside of those encountered in the field. I told you 
of the case of young Mr. Hearn, as fine a soldier as there is in the 
regiment to-day, yet he was well-nigh ruined through having fallen 
into the hands of the Jews when young and inexperienced. Wasn’t it 
luck that I should have known of the previous rascality of that clerk, 
and so was able to make him come to terms? Here is his duplicate 
receipt in full, filed carefully away among my papers. It was the 
means of saving a capital officer, too. 

Your letters bring constant joy to me, my son. If it had but 
pleased God to spare your dear motlier, I know well how proud and 
happy a woman she would have been in her great boy and bonny 
daughter; but His will be done. I may not write again before leaving 
for San Carlos, but my blessing goes with every line of this. There is 
such comfort in the frankness with which you told me of those college 
debts. Trust me fully ; confide in me in any trouble, my son ; no man 
can ever be more devotedly your friend than I, — your father. The 
draft I sent will doubtless have removed all care and anxiety and left 
you a little sum to the fore. Spend it as you please, yet Glo not dull 
thy palm with entertainment of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade.’ 
What words of wisdom spoke that fond old fool ! but he loved his boy 
as I love mine. 

Good-night, my lad. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


277 


“ This above all, to thine own self be true j 
And it must follow, as the night the day, 

Thou canst not then be false to any man. 

Your father, 

R. F. Rawlins/’ 

For a moment after Thorp’s deep voice had ceased its task, the 
silence in the heated room was broken only by some half-stifled sigh. 
Corporal Brent had covered his pale face with his hands. Mrs. Lane 
was weeping silently. Hearn’s eyes, swimming, were turned towards 
Georgia Marshall, who was bending over her friend, quietly fanning 
her. The effect of this letter was not unexpected : she had heard every 
word before. 

It was Grace who spoke at last, after no little preparatory clearing 
of his throat : 

‘‘And have you other letters from Captain Rawlins?” 

“Many, sir, but this was the last,” was the almost tremulous 
answer : “ he was killed within the week that followed.” 

“ And you are ?” 

“ Malcolm Brent Rawlins, his son.” 

XVII. 

The court had finished its labors and gone. The correspondents 
had gone, but presumably only to renewed labors. The various journals 
throughout the Northwest that had so confidently predicted the sum- 
mary dismissal of the offending lieutenant were now in a somewhat 
difficult position. They had started in to prove the officer a black- 
guard and the private a martyr; the result was exactly the opposite, 
and the problem was now how to get out of the pickle. To the aver- 
age man, soldier or civilian, the consciousness of having publicly 
wronged a fellow-being would have proved a source of distress so deep 
that nothing short of retraction as public and apology as far-reaching 
as the affront would satisfy the offender. But, in its Jove-like attitude 
as censor of the morals and manners of the people, the press has no 
such qualms of conscience. As one eminent journalist expressed it, 
“ Of course we are sorry we were misled, somewhat, but we can’t take 
back what has been said : that injures the paper.” And of course as 
between injuring the paper and injuring the man it is the man who 
must suffer. Another gifted editor, in whose eyes no benefit was quite 


278 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


to be compared with free advertising, expressed himself as considering 
tiiat “ That young fellow really ought to feel very much obliged to us; 
nine-tenths of the people might never have heard of him at all if it 
hadn’t been for this.” And he spoke in all seriousness. 

Of course the correspondents themselves had long since seen the 
inevitable results, and had duly prepared their respective papers for the 
crash. Some of these journals promptly dropped the matter at on(;e 
and for all, as no longer worthy of attention ; others transferred their 
assaults from the array of lieutenants to the array of courts-martial. 
Others still, too deeply committed to extricate themselves, threw open 
their columns to any damaging story affecting the army which their 
correspondents could fabricate ; and those papers which made any 
reference to the facts elicited before the court did so in the smallest 
type, but head-lined the item in sarcastic or explosive big capitals. 
The Palladiumy or rather its editorial head, when explaining matters 
to a knot of men at the club, quietly justified the course of his paper 
by saying, We did not send Mr. Abrams there at all ; he had gone 
to Central City on some personal business of his own, to look into 
some property, and while there this Mr. Schonberg, a wealthy, promi- 
nent, and, as we supposed, reputable business-man, told him about the 
offensive manners of the officers to the people, and offered to prove 
that they would be insulted and ostracized if they ventured to visit the 
garrison ; and Abrams got warmed up and telegraphed to the man- 
aging editor that he was ‘on to a good thing,’ and so we wired him to go 
ahead.” But a junior member of the editorial staff frankly admitted 
that he, in common with other journalists, had for sixteen years been 
“ laying” for a chance, as he expressed it, to get in a good whack at the 
young West-Pointer, and here they thought they had it. 

Meantime, the record had gone to department head-quarters for the 
action of the general commanding, and Lawler went with it to fight 
the case to the last. There was not a soul at Byan that did not know 
that, though the lips of the court were sealed, the finding had been 
‘‘not guilty” on every possible specification. All Lawler could hope 
to do now was to persuade the general to pick the proceedings to pieces 
and rasp the court in his review of the case; but even this proved 
futile. The general, it seemed, would do nothing of the kind ; it was 
even hinted that he rasped Lawler for the very one-sided investigation 
that he made at the outset. 

For two days following the adjournment of the court Fort Eyan 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


279 


was fairly in a ferment. Schonberg, terrified by the jeers of his towns- 
people to the belief that he was to be prosecuted for perjury, had slid 
away on a night train, — “gone to purchase goods in St. Louis, said 
his unhappy spouse. Welsh, the martyr, had essayed to desert the 
same night, and, as a cat plays with a mouse, old Kenyon had let him 
go until the intent was made plain by his boarding the eastward-bound 
train in civilian dress, and then had had him hauled ofi* by two stalwart 
infantrymen and, incidentally, by the nape of his neck, and once more 
Welsh was remanded to his familiar haunt, — the guard-house at Ryan. 
This time a still more serious charge was hanging over liis head, — that 
of assaulting a non-commissioned officer in discharge of his duty; for 
Corporal Brent had recognized him as his assailant the instant he heard 
his voice. So had another witness. It was Georgia Marshall who 
turned to Kenyon the moment Welsh had finished his testimony, and 
said, “ I have heard that man speak before, and who unhesitatingly 
declared after Goss appeared that, though by sight she could identify 
neither man, by voice she knew that the one who had assaulted the 
corporal of the guard that night was not Goss, but Welsh. Then 
Welsh himself broke down. Such was the feeling against him among 
the men, such were the threats which he could not but hear as he lay 
in his barred cell, that he begged to be allowed to see the commanding 
officer. He was in fear for his life, — poor devil! and indeed nothing 
but the discipline so derided of the newspapers saved him from the 
tarring and feathering and riding on a rail that the soldiers were wild 
to give him. In piteous accents he implored Kenyon to have him sent 
away, even to prison at Leavenworth. He would plead guilty to de- 
sertion, guilty to theft, guilty to assault, guilty to anything, if the major 
would only get him away from the terrible scowls and curses of his erst- 
while companions. Only, if tlie major would but believe him, he really 
had- never struck the corporal at all; he had hurled the pepper in his 
eyes and run. Brent, blinded and raging, had rushed in })ursuit, and 
had struck his head against the sharp edge of the brick pillar at the 
south end of the troop-barracks. Very possibly this was true ; for the 
gash was deep and jagged. 

And Brent was convalescing rapidly, but, between the ladies of the 
Lane, Brodie, Cross, and Graves households, stood in danger of being 
killed with kindness. There was just the least little spark of jealousy 
among the women of the infantry because it was to a comparative 
stranger that he should have revealed his identity and by her be brought 


280 


AN ARMY PORTIA, 


to the front at so supreme a moment. But it was Miss Marshall who 
had been greatly interested in his case from the very night of his mis- 
hap, and she and Mrs. Lane had been most kind and assiduous in their 
attentions to him during his days of suffering. When he learned of the 
charges against Lieutenant Hearn and of the outrageous falsification 
of the Jew, Schonberg, his determination to conceal his name was at 
last overcome, and to Miss Marshall and to Dr. Ingersoll he told his 
story. His father’s sudden and lamentable death at the hands of the 
Apaches had left him no alternative but to make over to his sister every 
cent that had been hoarded up and set aside for his education, — every 
cent that was his by the old soldier’s will, — and then, leaving with her 
the little box that contained the captain’s papers and letters, and quit- 
ting college, he went to New York and enlisted, choosing the infantry 
service rather than the cavalry because his father’s old friends and asso- 
ciates were mainly in the latter, and, though he had seen none of them 
since his boyhood days, he thought recognition not impossible, and he 
determined to make his own way and owe nothing to any man. 

I’m glad he came to us,” said old Kenyon. I’d do pretty much 
anything to see him in any other profession ; but, as he is bound to be 
a soldier. I’ll do all I can to place ‘ Candidate’ alongside his name on 
our muster-roll, and then it would be just my luck to find him com- 
missioned in the cavalry.” 

But if there was excitement at Eyan, just fancy the feelings of the 
officers and men in the Eleventh, now two hundred miles away in the 
Indian Territory, when the letters came detailing the events of the last 
day of that court-martial, — Schonberg’s exposure, Brent’s unveiling, 
Welsh’s disgrace, Hearn’s undoubted acquittal, Lawler put to confusion 
and flight, and Georgia Marshall the heroine of the whole thing ! 

A Daniel come to judgment, ay, a Daniel,” quoth Martin, as Lane 
read aloud Mabel’s enthusiastic description of what she termed the 
“ trial scene.” The whole regiment sends heart-felt congratulations to 
Hearn and love to Portia,” was the telegram that came flashing back to 
Mrs. Lane. Morris lost no time in dictating a diplomatic message to his 
absent subaltern, expressive of his desire to welcome him back to duty 
after so complete a vindication. But Morris felt very ill at ease, and 
was not surprised that no answer was vouchsafed. He retired to his 
tent, and was not seen for some hours after learning of Brent’s identity. 

Meantime, just when one would suppose that all was plain sailing, 
balmy breezes, sun-kissed wavelets, etc., just when nothing should hav^e 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


281 


Btood in the way of Mr. Hearn’s rejoicing with all his heart, and just 
when the course of his true love ought to have been smooth and sweet, the 
very imp of perversity seemed to have suddenly developed in Georgia 
Marshall’s breast, and she who had done so much to clear his name of 
“the clouds that lowered o’er” it, and had for two weeks been the young 
soldier’s most valued friend and ally, now most unaccountably held 
aloof and fairly shunned his society. She met him only in a crowd. 
She simply would not meet him alone. On one pretext or another she 
avoided him, and poor Hearn, wounded, utterly unable to account for 
this sudden change, utterly incapable of fathoming a woman’s whim, 
was now plunged in the depths of a distress exceeding that from which 
he had just emerged. She had rescued him from the toils only to plunge 
him into worse entanglement. 

It was the fourth day after the adjournment of the court when Major 
Kenyon came to Mr. Hearn’s rooms with a telegram just received from 
division head-quarters, and found that young gentleman dejectedly read- 
ing a long letter in the handwriting of Judge Hearn, his father. Ken- 
yon had grown to know it well. “ Released from arrest, lad ! That 
means you can go and join the regiment as soon as you like. What 
does the judge say now?” 

“ Read that page,” was the answer, as Hearn placed the letter in the 
major’s hand. And with knitted brows Kenyon read as follows : 

“ And now again I urge upon you, my son, the step I so earnestly 
counselled in my last. Major Kenyon’s telegram just received says that 
your acquittal is assured and that your vindication is triumphant. This 
I felt would be the case. But what reparation have you for the wrongs 
and insults heaped upon you by the Northern press? What proportion 
of the people who have had you portrayed to them as a low bully, a 
drunken brute, and a swindler wdll ever know the contrary? What 
paper that has vilified you will have the decency or the courage, now 
that it knows the truth, to make the faintest amends? Not one. 

“ The time has come for you now to quit at once and for all a pro- 
fession which the people of the North so little appreciate and so per- 
sistently decry. I am aging fast, and shall be glad to have your strong 
arm to lean upon. A year or two in my office will fit you for the bar. 
Meantime, you can have nearly double the income tliat the government 
pays you, and when I am gone all I have, practically, will be yours. 
Come back to us, my boy ; come to the mother, the father, and the 


282 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


people who love you ; come home to us who know and need you : you 
are not wanted where you are.” 

For some time Major Kenyon stood in silence. At last, seeing 
that he was expected to express his opinion, he slowly spoke : 

“ I feared that that first letter would come, and I might have known 
that this would follow. When will you answer?” 

“Not just yet. I must think it over. Not — not until after to- 
night, anyway.” 

That evening Mrs. Morris insisted upon everybody’s coming to her 
house “ to celebrate.” The news that Hearn had been released by 
telegraphic orders was all over the post in half an hour, and that he 
would start to rejoin the regiment in the field was of course a foregone 
conclusion. Only, said that all-important personage referred to gener- 
ally as “everybody,” — only he will probably want to delay a little 
while on Miss Marshall’s account, for if they are not already engaged 
it is solely her fault ; any one can see he is utterly in love with her. 

Once in a while “ everybody” makes a mistake. This time “ every- 
body” was practically right. No one more thoroughly than Hearn 
himself knew how utterly he was in love with Georgia Marshall, and 
nobody but Kenyon knew that, yielding to the plea in his father’s 
letter, Hearn might not return to the regiment at all. 

It was a joyous gathering at the Morrises’ ; and yet there had been 
a singular conversation at the Lanes’ before Mabel could induce her 
friend to go at all. 

“ Mr. Hearn will certainly come and ask to be your escort,” said 
Mabel, the moment Mrs. Morris was gone. “ How can you say no?” 

“ He will ask you, Mabel, as I shall not be visible, and you must 
accept. If you will walk over there and back with Mr. Hearn, I will 
go; otherwise I shall have a splitting headache and be confined to my 
room.” 

“How utterly absurd, Portia! Everybody expects him to escort 
you. No other man in this post will ask you so long as he is here; it 
is a foregone conclusion that Mr. Hearn will.” 

“ That is why I want you to go with him. If I go it will be witli 
Major Kenyon.” And then Miss Marshall took the flushed, perplexed, 
but lovely face of her hostess between her slender hands and kissed it. 
“ Mabel, I must not go with Mr. Hearn. Some day I’ll tell you why.” 
And then she ran to her room. 


AN ARMY PORTIA 283 

‘^Tell me, indeed! I know too well,’^ was the almost tearful 
answer. “ You are prouder, far prouder, than I ever was.” 

And so, though she gained her point for the time-being, though 
Hearn had to offer his services to Mrs. Lane when he called and could 
not see Miss Marshall, though Mabel went on that moody young gen- 
tleman’s arm and Miss Marshall followed with her stanch friend the 
major, — Hearn raging with jealous pain the while, — the time came 
when she found her precaution all of no avail. Mr. Hearn was too 
much in earnest, too deeply in love, to be longer held at bay. 

^^Mrs. Lane,” he stammered at last, as they were walking home- 
ward late at night, I must speak to Miss Marshall. Surely you know 
why. Have I not your good wishes? Will you not help me?” 

How could Mabel Lane refuse ? Once the gate was reached she 
bade both men come in, though Miss Marshall would have dismissed 
the major ; and then, slipping from the parlor along the hall-way to 
the dining-room, she left Miss Marshall to entertain her guests, while 
with nervous hands she set forth wine, and then presently called 
Kenyon, as though to her aid. He came instantly, and Miss Marshall 
would have followed. But Hearn was too quick, and sprang before her 
to the door- way. For three — four minutes, nervously, incoherently, 
Mrs. Lane strove to keep up a laughing chat with the bulky major; 
but he, too, saw the ruse as he sipped his wine, and neither was prac- 
tised in the art of dissembling. Suddenly Hearn’s footsteps, quick 
and firm, were heard in the hall-way; the front door closed with 
sudden bang, and, without a word to his hostess, he was gone. Mrs. 
Lane’s heart sank within her. Conversation was at an end. Kenyon 
stood for an instant in awkward silence. Then Miss Marshall’s skirts 
were heard as she fairly rushed up the stairs, and the major took him- 
self off as quickly as a clumsy man could effect an escape. An instant 
after, Mabel Lane stood at Georgia’s door. It was closed. 

Portia,” she called, in low, pleading tones, — “ Portia, mayn’t I 
come in ?” 

For a moment, no answer at all. 

Georgia, dear, do speak to me.” 

At last a quick, impetuous step; the door was thrown open. All 
was darkness ; but as Mrs. Lane entered with outstretched arms, there 
came a low, almost wailing voice from the bedside ; 

“ Oh, Mabel, Mabel, how could you ?” 


284 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


XVIII. 

When it was generally understood around Fort Eyan the following 
afternoon that Mr. Hearn had taken the first train and gone after the 
regiment early that morning, people were somewhat surprised. Along 
toward sunset the ladies began to think it time somebody went to call 
at the Lanes’ and see why it was that neither Mrs. Lane nor Miss 
Marshall had been abroad during the day. Incidentally, too, it might 
be possible to find out whether congratulations were in order. Nol)ody 
could account for the sudden departure of the lieutenant. Kenyon 
knew of it, of course, but to all questions would only reply, as though 
in surprise, — 

“Go? Why, of course he went! What else would you expect 
of a man like Hearn? He was all ready to join his regiment: why 
shouldn’t he go ?” 

Still, as Mr. Hearn had not said a word about going even when 
questioned the night before, every woman at Ryan felt sure there was 
some sudden reason, and equally sure that Miss Marshall, if she only 
would, could tell it. Very probably the first callers fully expected to 
be told that Miss Marshall was not well and begged to be excused. 
That would have settled the matter to their entire satisfaction. But, 
on the contrary. Miss Marshall, looking every bit as fresh and cool and 
animated as ever, came tripping lightly down the stairs the moment 
they were announced. She perfectly well knew that they would be 
coming, and was fully prepared to meet them. She had heard, too, of 
Mr. Hearn’s sudden departure : a brief note had come to Mrs. Lane 
early in the morning, over which that bonny matron had had a good 
cry. The visitors only succeeded in finding Miss Marshall as brilliant 
and entertaining as ever, but more provokingly inscrutable. It was 
impossible to determine from her manner in speaking of Mr. Hearn 
and his departure whether there was an engagement or not. 

Nor was any one a whit wiser at the end of the week. “ If she is 
engaged to him,” said the dames and damsels, “she is receiving rather 
too much attention from the major, who lets no day go by without its 
call, and the calls are growing longer.” 

Mabel Lane, who had looked pale for a day or two, was blithe 
and sunshiny as ever, so far as Eyan society could judge ; and in the 
absence of any local sensation some people were disposed to regard 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


285 


the situation as decidedly disheartening. No woman rests content who 
suspects an engagement and cannot prove it. 

Letters from the regiment gave no clue. Lane wrote to Mabel 
every day, — another thing that made him culpable in the eyes of lords 
less uxorious, — and she was besieged by the other wives with questions 
as to what was going on in the field. But what he wrote her of Hearn 
she would tell no one, not even Georgia, — who never asked. 

It has been a hard ordeal for Hearn, as any one can see,’^ wrote 
the captain. “ He has aged and changed greatly. The youngsters had 
planned a sort of love-feast for him, but he begged them that nothing 
of the kind be held, and he has really shunned society since rejoining. 
He claims that all his time is taken up with his troop, and of course 
we are very busy ; but there is something behind it, and I think you 
know.’^ 

She did know, and yet could not tell. It was her penance for 
breaking faith with Georgia. The latter had forbidden that she should 
tell to any one the fact that Mr. Hearn had indeed offered himself and 
had been refused. 

But Lane learned it soon enough. From the moment of his return 
to the regiment the young soldier spent most of his time, when off duty, 
in the society of the captain, and one night in the fulness of his sorrow- 
ing heart he told his friend of the bitter disappointment that had come 
to him. He loved her deeply, had asked her to be his wife, and she 
had gently, even tearfully, but positively, said no, it simply could not 
be. He had begged her to give her reasons, and she refused. She 
assured him of her faith, respect, and esteem, but pointed out to him 
that in every way possible since the trial she had striven to avert the 
declaration which she frankly confessed she could not but foresee. He 
was forced to admit this, and could no longer press her for reasons, 
since she had plainly discouraged his suit. Yet it was hard, — very 
hard. 

Lane simply could not understand. ^^Is there any one else?’^ he 
wrote to Mabel, and Mabel said she was sure there was not ; but she 
was equally sure Georgia meant no. Mabel, herself, was even more 
perplexed than the captain, since Georgia had gently but resolutely for- 
bidden any further mention of the subject between them. And now, 
with the utter inconsistency of her sex, pretty Mrs. Lane was all eager- 
ness to discover and demolish the barrier to a match which a month ago 
she would have opposed because it seemed inevitable. 


286 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


Then came a joy in which Mrs. Lane for the time-being forgot her 
perplexities. Captain Fred obtained a seven days’ leave from the regi- 
ment and flew as straight to her arms as a circuitous railroad-route could 
carry him. He greeted Miss Marshall as cordially as ever, but he did 
not call her Portia as he had intended, because Mabel warned him in a 
letter that it served to revive associations which were not all joyous. 
“ I called her Portia long before she met Mr. Hearn,” was Lane’s stout 
reply ; but if she doesn’t like it, that’s enough.” Major Kenyon was 
bidden to dinner the evening of his home-coming, and of course many 
of the garrison people happened in, and so there was nothing but general 
chat. But two evenings later, when the major was sitting in the big 
arm-chair and discoursing on some of his favorite hobbies, he broached 
anew the matter of Judge Hearn’s letter urging his son to quit the 
service. 

“ Have you never heard Hearn’s answer, major?” said Lane. “ He 
read it to me before sending it, and I thought it so good that I kept a 
copy. Here it is.” 

Miss Marshall was sitting at the table under the bright lamp as 
Lane began to read. Mabel noticed that she leaned forward, shading 
her eyes with her hand. 

I have thought it all over, my dear father. The offer you make 
me is one for which I thank you with all my heart. Few men could 
quit the service under better auspices, or return to a home more loved 
or friends more loving; and yet — I cannot. Ten years of my life, 
perhaps the best ten, have been spent in a profession which with every 
year presents new fields, new studies, and new requirements. I have 
worked honestly, have won friends, and, in all modesty may sav, a 
good name. Admitting all you write of this recent attempt of* the 
papers to blacken it, my friends here tell me that it but proves the 
strength of my record that even concerted newspaper assaults could not 
harm me in the eyes of right-thinking people. 

I love the duties. I am deeply attached to many of my comrades, 
I can be a very fair soldier, and might only make a very poor lawyer. 
For these reasons I think I ought to stand where I am.* But there is 
still another reason. 

‘‘Father, when I bound myself to the United States as a cadet I 
received at the hands of the nation a schooling such as I could get at 
no other institution in the world, and was moulded by the nation for 
\s service. If in after-years I found myself better fitted to serve in 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


287 


some other way, then tliere might be excuse for tendering a resignation. 
But when I feel and know that I am far more soldier than I can ever 
be anything else, it all the more convinces me that my efforts belong 
now and for a lifetime to the nation that trained me and that I have 
sworn to serve. 

“ The dear ones at home know me best, it is true. The class in 
whose supposed interests I have been so unjustly assailed, it is also true, 
is very diferent from that in which we move. But, in the broad light 
of a soldier’s duty, neither the love of the one nor the unreasoning 
hate of the other should swerve me. The hardest knocks a soldier has 
to bear come sometimes from the very men whom he is sworn to defend. 
You would not have me yield because of a stinging wound or two, nor 
would I be worthy of your name if I faltered now. It is my belief 
that, despite apparent apathy, there is still, North or South, a place in 
the hearts of the people for every soldier who seeks faithfully to serve 
them, and in that faith — God helping me — I shall follow the old flag 
to the end,^^ 

By Jupiter !” said Kenyon, as he sprang to his feet and strode 
excitedly up and down the room, isn’t that enough to make one 
damn the liberty of the press, to think that a month ago it was holding 
up that fine fellow for everything that was low and contemptible ! — 
Miss Marshall, if I were Why, she’s gone!” 

“Just stepped into the dining-room a moment,” said Mrs. Lane, 
promptly, though her eyes were brimming. “ Now, isn’t that Mr. 
Hearn all over !” 

But Georgia Marshall had not gone into the dining-room. Mabel 
found her over at the end of the veranda, gazing at the distant night- 
lights across the dark and silent valley. 

September came, and the Eleventh would soon be on its home- 
ward march. Letters to the regiment made frequent mention of old 
Kenyon’s devotion to Miss Marshall, and even Hearn had to hear occa- 
sional bits of conversation that told him that in quitting Ryan he had 
abandoned the field to a rival. But when orders reached them there 
was other news: Miss Marshall was to return to the East at once. 
“Despite every plea,” wrote Mabel, “she persists in it, and adamant 
is no more yielding than is her determination. I am utterly heart- 
broken, but cannot prevent it. She has been making arrangements for 
a new position of some kind for the last six weeks, and she will leave 
before the regiment gets back.” 


288 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


And when the Eleventh came marching into Ryan late in the 
month, and a host of tanned and bearded troopers rode in behind the 
band on its dancing grays, Georgia Marshall had vanished from the 
scene. 

Presently Kenyon took a long leave and disappeared. Having it 
out with his newspaper friends in Chicago,’’ was Martin’s suggestion. 
But the next thing heard of him he had turned up in Cincinnati, and 
Mabel knew well what that meant, and waited with bated breath. 
For a month there came no further news, and then he was reported at 
St. Augustine, more crabbed than ever. 

Then he, too, has been rejected,” said Mabel. And she was right. 
Kenyon did not rejoin until long after the Christmas holidays. 

Old Blauvelt, by this time, had been sent before a retiring board, 
which recommended him for permanent shelving, and he was still on 
leave until the needed vacancy should occur. Hearn, meantime, 
remained in command of his troop, no longer encumbered by the pres- 
ence of Trooper Welsh, who had been formally sent to Leavenworth.” 
Corporal Brent had won his sergeant’s chevrons, and was looking for- 
w^ard to examination for promotion. Everything was going blithely 
at the post, but for the sadness that seemed to have clouded one young 
soldier’s life, and for the anxious look on Mabel Lane’s face when 
Portia was asked for, as Portia often was. Teaching children all the 
fall and winter was telling on her,” wrote an old school-friend. And 
when April came she was reported ill, though her own letters made no 
mention of it. The family would move to their country-seat in a 
week, and she would be so glad, she said, to see the trees and birds 
again. 


The first of May had come. The lovely suburbs of a bustling 
city were shrouded in the richest, freshest green. The sweet breath of 
the early summer, laden with the perfume of lilac and honeysuckle 
and of myriad blossoms, was sighing through the foliage of a park of 
grand old trees and rippling the surface of a grassy lawm. Robin and 
bluebird, oriole and crested woodpecker, flashed and flitted through the 
sunshine, now splashing in the basin of the fountain, now chasing each 
other in chattering glee through the slanting light and shadow. The 
drone of beetle and hum of dragon-fly fell soothingly on the drowsy 
ear. The little knot of Jerseys browsing in the paddock down the 


AN ARMY PORTIA 


289 


eastward slope huddled together sleepily in a shaded corner. The 
tennis-court was deserted, the mallets lay sprawled about the croquet- 
ground, and a pair of Maltese kittens that had been scampering about, 
playing hide-and-seek among the currant-bushes, seemed at last over- 
come by the languorous spell in which all nature was hushed, and with 
the confidence of kittenhood proceeded to clamber into the slowly- 
swinging hammock, hung well back in the shade, wherein was reclining 
the one human being visible in the entire picture, — a tall girl with 
big dark eyes and a wealth of sombre braids of hair, — a girl whose 
soft cheeks were almost as thin and pale as the slender white hands 
loosely clasping an open letter that lay in her lap. And it was this 
that the foremost pussy, after clambering by swift springs up the path- 
way afforded by the trailing white skirts, now impatiently pawed to 
one side and curled herself up in its place ; there she was promptly 
joined by her playmate. Slowly the thin white hand was lifted and 
gently stroked the fur of the pretty, graceful creature. 

It is a holiday for us, isn’t it, Flulfykin ?” murmured the girl. 
‘‘The children and doggy both gone, and it’s almost time for us to be 
thinking of tea, — tea all alone. There’s the whistle of the sunset 
train now.” 

For a moment the wooded slopes on both sides of the valley echoed 
to the rattle of the incoming cars, the sharp hiss of steam, the distant 
sound of voices at the little station down the winding village street, 
arched over with rustling foliage. Then the clang of the bell, and the ^ 
hurrying engine again pushed northward, impatient of delay. A few 
light carriages and pony-phaetons came driving swiftly by ; a few of 
the occupants waved hand or handkerchief to the reclining figure in 
the hammock, but far more passed by on the other side without a sign 
or token, and presently silence and solitude again settled down upon 
the shaded lawn, and the last rays of the westering sun kissed the tree- 
tops good-night and slowly died away. 

“ Surely there should be another letter from Mabel to-night : this 
one is a week old now,” said Portia. But, old as it was, there seemed 
one page which deserved re-reading, and the white hands sought and 
found the letter and lifted it before her eyes ; 

“ Mr. Hearn has been gone a week now, and w'e miss him sadly. 

He had almost made his home here with us during the winter, and 
rarely spent an evening anywhere else. His father’s death seems to 
have been very sudden, and it was a great shock. He has a month’s 

19 


290 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


leave, with permission to apply for an extension. Georgia, — Portia, — 
I could say so much, so very much, if you would only listen. If you 
would only release me from that promise ! I was thinking but yester- 
day how I blessed the day that my pride broke down and gave me 
Fred and happiness. Sometimes I cannot but think that only pride — 
foolish, unwarrantable pride — stands between you and a life as blessed 
as my own.” 

Impatiently the letter was hurled upon the grass, and, half turning, 
Georgia buried her wan face on her arm. Of what was she thinking? 
Surely those were hot tears trickling through the long white fingers ; 
surely there was little evidence of stubborn pride in the abandonment 
of that silent, lonely sorrow. All day she had been at leisure, the 
family and children away in town, and, though neither her duties had 
been very onerous nor the trials of her new position very great, she 
had drooped all winter long. This was the first real day of rest ; yet, 
with all its sweetness and sunshine, had it not been full of tears ? — full 
of vague unrest and longing? and now even the sunshine was going, 
and the gloaming was slowly settling down upon the valley. Far over 
the eastern heights the silvery shield of the soft May moon was peeping 
into view ; but the fairy shafts of her gentle light could not yet pene- 
trate the gathering gloom here in the grove where swung the hammock. 
Still the hot tears came trickling between the white fingers, and, yield- 
ing at last to the mournful influence of the dying day, Georgia Mar- 
shall wept unrestrainedly, — wept while great sobs shook her frame; 
and while one fluffy kitten, disturbed in her intended nap, stretched 
forth a furry paw and lifted up a querulous note of remonstrance, her 
companion, suddenly dislodged from her cosey nest in Georgia’s lap, 
clawed vigorously back upon the heaving folds of the summer fabric, 
glared around in excited search for the possible cause of such seismatic 
disturbance, and instantly set back a pair of tiny ears, arched a furry 
back, bristled her stiffening tail, and gave vent to spiteful challenge at 
the fell disturber of her peace. There stood a man. 

A tall young fellow, erect and powerful in build, clad in civilian 
garb, but striding across the lawn with the swing of a trooper, halted 
suddenly not ten feet away and lifted from his shapely head a hat 
banded heavily with crape. The next instant he had hurled this aside, 
stepped quickly forward, utterly ignoring pussy’s hostile guise, had 
thrown himself on one knee beside the hammock, and the drooping 
moustache almost swept the soft, white hands as he impetuously seized 
them. 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


291 . 


Georgia/^ he whispered. 

Heavens ! what a start ! In her wild consternation she recoiled from 
his touch, striving at the same instant to sit erect. Hammocks are not 
made for combinations so eccentric. The next instant the flimsy thing 
had slipped from under her, and she felt herself going. Drowning 
men catch at straws ; drowning women seize the hand they would have 
shunned. But for his sudden spring, but for prompt clasping arras, 
she would have gone headlong to the ground on the opposite side. For 
a minute she was held in close embrace, a confused mingling of dusky 
braids, of throbbing femininity, of hotly-blushing, tear-wet face, of 
cool linen lawn and clinging hammock-netting. Then her hands 
regained their cunning, and found his broad shoulders, and she pushed 
herself free, and then hysterical laughter came to her aid, and the 
shaded grove rang to a peal that, if not merry, was at least irresistible, 
and at last, as she sat there, restored to equilibrium and striving to 
regain her whirling senses, as he stood patiently bending over her, half 
praying that the inspired hammock might yet attempt some new freak, 
she glanced up at him through smiles and tears and disordered bangs, 
only to say, — 

How utterly absurd V’ 

To which philosophical remark he vouchsafed no reply whatever. 

It is a full minute before she recovers, even partially, either breath 
or self-possession. Then she holds forth her hand, and he assists her 
to rise. 

This is not the welcome I should give you. Shall we go to the 

house 

But even as she asks and her eyes glance nervously, shyly, up into 
his face, she knows he will accept no invitation that will peril this tUe- 
ci-Ute, She sees how the lines have deepened in his frank, soldierly 
face, and that a sadness not all of his recent bereavement has left its 
traces there. She would lead him from thd shaded grove to the parlor, 
where the lamps are already beginning to twinkle, but he will not budge 
one step. He stands confronting her. 

No ! I have come solely to see you. Is there any reason why we 
cannot stay here a moment?’^ And she can think of none. Oh, 
what infamous fate that he should have found her weeping, — bathed in 
tears ! 

‘^I hardly thought to see you at all, especially after — the great 


292 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


— sorrow of your father’s death, she falters, her heart leaping and 
bounding, despite her effort to be calm. 

I am taking mother North,” he answers, simply. ‘^It was a 
cruel blow to her and a hard one to me. It was all over before I could 
get home. Mother will spend the summer with her sister on the St. 
Lawrence, but she has to rest in Cincinnati until to-morrow night. I 
left her with old friends this afternoon and came out here to find you. 
I must go back this evening. And, now, have you no word of wel- 
come for me ? Did you not know that I would come, loving you as I 
do?” 

What answer can she make? Her head is drooping low; her 
hands are clasped together, her bosom heaving, her breath fluttering 
away ; and yet how wild a joy, how exquisite a hope, is throbbing in 
her heart of hearts ! 

‘^Georgia,” he speaks impulsively, his deep voice trembling, ^^you 
made me accept your answer then and bear my bitter disappointment 
without a word ; but I have borne it too long now. Had you been at 
the other end of the world I must have followed you, for the longing 
to see your dear face, to hear your voice, to look into your glorious 
eyes, has overmastered me time and again. I had to come, and now I 
will hear what it is that stands between us. God knows my love and 
honor have been yours a long, long year. God knows there can be no 
content or joy for me if your answer be final. You have bound my 
lite in yours. You won my whole heart, my deepest gratitude. No, 
you cannot check me by impatient gesture now : you must hear. You 
told me there was no other man. Is that true ?” 

Perfectly,” she answers, proudly. 

‘‘And yet you would not listen to me. You would not be my 
wife.” 

“You forget, it was just after the trial. You seemed to think you 
owed me such a world of gratitude ; and — do not men sometimes mis- 
take gratitude for love?” 

“Oh, heaven!” he interrupts her impetuously, his hands out- 
stretched. “You do not mean you doubted me, Georgia? If that 
were your reason, is it not banished now? Look — look up into my 
eyes, my darling, and tell me, if you dare, that it is gratitude, not 
deep and fervent love, I offer you. Nay, you shall see.” And, before 
she can retreat, his strong, trembling hands have seized her drooping 
head, and between them her face, with its dark, lustrous, swimming 


AN ARMY PORTIA. 


293 


eyes, with cheeks still tear- wet, yet burning with blushes chasing each 
other to her very brows, her soft red lips quivering and trembling at 
the dimpled corners, — all — all now lifted to his worshipping gaze; and 
she can repel no longer. One swift glance, and, if ever vestige of 
doubt remained, it vanished then and there. No woman on earth could 
have looked into his eyes and denied the love that burned within them, 
— all her own, all her own. 

Speak to me, Georgia. Do you believe me now 
Yes,^’ she whispers, and her face would have hidden itself but for 
those strong hands again. 

And you have no love to give in return 
A little silvery beam is peeping through the foliage now. The 
kittens, forgotten, are rolling over each other in mad frolic at their 
very feet. The last chirp of drowsing bird has died away. The 
silence of the sweet summer night has fallen on all surrounding nature, 
yet he can hardly hear her whisper, — 

You never asked it — until now.^^ 

“ But it is mine, really ? Georgia, tell me,^^ he implores. 

It has been — all yours ever since the night I heard your letter,^ — • 
ever since you wrote that you would follow the old flag to t.ie end.’’ 


THE END. 


3. ^ 



f?“- .■■i»'' ,;<i-;^<;W 






r" r r' 



•Y 




•• t 




In . 


•■■ ' »■ 


. n 




Kt 


I 








&• 


fiP' 


t 


.4 




f- * • 


H|f 


^ 7 

V V ' 5 >U^ ■*>. * * ^ 

'* #-• '" , -■ ^■'^Iln ' * ‘ ^ 

:<;;.<■■*.? ^ mil Ptk' "-■ ivrl '" ^ •('•■’*'-" 


* m; 




<,• 


» ' 


^ 2 : 


-1 




111 


■.?Vi 


4 


A*V 


'•'ff • *■ 






ij- 


.•^ V* 




>r'^- 


I 










I « 


*'r 


t? 




ri) > 


m 


Zt 






t i ' 




^«,rv; 


.r, 




<• 










#• 


V, 


'«*■ %-!. 


t‘- ''r ’"•v 

;§r 


t» 


■“rt. 


if. 




ij ■ Vfjki -J ^ '‘‘ 

r I .!&. ^.i^^^ 4 |l I 


1 




ki • 




« I 


^ .3 


> V 


:ii 






Si^-* 


v>> 


•% V. 




I •»v 


‘ 4 *V 


V. .•- .V, 






». 


.'•^l 


fSk 


• *■ 




.V: 












'O-i 


. . • ' -A 


\ t 


ir :4 


♦ ^ I, . 1 ' ^ ^ 

^ J^Ei^An Ih 

3 »| 1 ^ . 

■ :^ 


*’ ^ ' 


iMl 


- 4 ^ 


> .ol 




M » 


IM 


f 





r -J: 


/;•->•' • ■■ .• i‘«'f '• Ffcy. •=*'" .. 




V. - 


A 





I* 




m % 

y. 9- 

* 


c*.-' ’» 4-’ r^^v* * 

sp;-.’'--r''i ‘ "^i 



. /• 




-* I 


I 


i 


MM, 


‘v ,. ^ .X 

«•'-■ I-' i 

. ■•■ tk '. 


M 


' ,■} 

-X' ■.^“ ^ X 

^ ‘JIHI*. I 

■ . • * ''^■' 
'‘ill .'• V rf 

a ...Hf 



liTii 


“«* 


■14 




W f ' 

L_ «i . i u. 


u ; 




; . -*.'l> 










1 




' : '■ ^ 
- '^-i V V' '. .'^-.'T'’ • ■ ,' ■ 

' ■ ■ ' /•' ■';: ' ■■■'■'■. 




. t 


i -M- . 

, . V /4 ... . ' 

-S' ' .. ■ > .,'■, ,' • i v: 

s ■• ■ ,‘ |1' \* ^ ' 



' > ' 




Jk'' "' ' 

1/ru. 


f 




y 


i, 


1 1 


. ». 

I 



." j. 


t 


» ' . 


I • 


1 • . •• 


• I 


, ■ 

^ '. ■ 




lU 


I 


* If 


I • 


< 


. s 

.» I * ft • I ■ I 

• K ^ ^ X -Vi ^ 

' ’-i :A 

I ■ ' ‘-I 


, ■ 1’ *, 

■ ' -r 

' Xr 

• 4 

■ . ir/, y 

r-' . 

' . . Y' *'1 

• ' 


> «■ > . • 


; . ■''' 


• ■ , • ■ ' ''i;' 






' 'l « 


’t 

I 

I 




1 







7 


J 


t 


« 


% . 


S 




4 




N f* 


# 


S 


i 


4 


» 


y 





f 


I 



f 


% 


I 



itv 


I 


r 


V 





’ t\ 


I 

• ♦ 


• 4 


<4 


♦ - 


"1 


# 

I 




I 


• s 


T 




I 


I , 


t • 



% 




I 


S • 



V 







K 

• • 
# 



• • 
4 









/ 


* 


% 


» 


( 




, • 






^ 

< 



' • V. • I 

. v «*■* . 


*• ' 

I 



f: 





» I 


• i 


I 


« 

» 

1 * 




( 



I I 






f.^' 


; 


*4 




‘ . - ; ' '■ .' ■ “' i;. ■.•’'^SH: " >••*.'' ^ 

•*'• .'vr ‘ 




«Hii| 




iftJ.'ri 




: j4 


-M, .:. , 




1 , \ 


S^¥l 4 . 


V * % 

!)'•!< 




M < . / 




— ^"1 


r 


■-'r^T^ 








' r 




^ . ■y’r .-.: 


’•• '■•..■ ', 'V:,.;»- ■ .h)Sk ^■•..., 


' ■ ‘ j 1 0 


rjv. '* ^ 


'tj 




1 . 'g« 


^ 


•ir-’ 


• •* I 


> < 


. -r* 


* ’k . 




■«■ , 


V 


t ' 




I*: ■ ^ 


'!■ ’ j*- 


* W 


7\ * 


i •• f 


» t- 






J' 


T 


•;a., 


.» s 




}•- I 








^', >• 


:'/..v-:- '.'* 


i- v ' ./ 




)*’V 






/> I-' 


./, i. 


'*>.x 


*A. ‘ 




. *, -V' 






ur 






,1* 


iCi-'l 


■M 




r, ?> 


V. . ' 4- 


4 


H* 


s’ V' 


. ' 7l 




7 f 


>4' 


M. 




"iT 

!. ; 




•4. » 


^ :S, 




/ •• ^ -‘*.V-‘ ‘‘^" '•? ".f ; '<l‘ 't' 

4 \ ^ Af. '.!>. A-r’JI-.* . .i- 


( •<« 


J V 


• lA 


f t' 




i' 


f' ,y 


W ' --0 


^ '. i 


A M 




HVH 


\;i: 






^ • 


,r 






4 •.'^ 






V. 




,v' ' 




• {■ V 






' 4 , 


Tf 






.Ai'sVr- V 


•N 


,«:"v 




O ?• 


V" 


•/ J 


IHJ: 


H 




.z; V 


‘.'♦P ‘.y 


I 


>.'/ i 


*u IaA 


*. 4 i k 


■JtA 




I 




J. 


:i i 




f 


\ • 




.:'' ..1 


•, { 




o»‘ \ 


t.o r » 'i 


•V ■> 




'»•' '-fc '" . 


f: 




i I*! 


,' 1^ . 


i t. 




hlli 


N|S 




.^' /Aw 




w-* 


;4>' 




4 i>f 






‘4 


iw 




fit 


-wSc'*' 




» 4 .1 


1 


i. 


/■J 


I 


. V / 


r 


v'C 


W/ 






f’ ’■ j fc' 










ii 




v^: 


iff > 


.•C’' 


.' ‘J 


• M 


W' 


* T/ 










ii \ 


'/V 








n f\ 


A » 


>. V 


'V .•* 


^1 


.4 • 


ft',? • .% -P 






■Xfc 








■ ^ - '■* •-'. y.y 


n.- \ 


• 'k 


7 ,At, Ay- ■.■ ■:!,■■,!;■ ■•^ Y 


- ' • ' • -4 


‘i':v 


* \ 


If' 4 "A 


« ' 




H 


|t£. 




J' 


' • T >4' ' ■ 

‘-a'*. 

V'V*'- Wli- t*’' ' 

■ ^v. . ■-•- 


■V'- . 


.\rv 


^ •• 

KL.‘ 


'» '>• 


I k 





r V 


f * », \^-‘'c.Kr 4 


. • ■ ^ TdtP^k 




» » •» I T » » • • 

y ■^.<.^ttr6. ^ 4 - 


I > 


> i 






.id 


»**'i 


I'/vf 


’'f '.rvty. O 

*4 ' •••v> n. 



kx - . •'% ‘■'••J 


■ ■' , ■■ ■■ ■• . '■ [ vA- ■'‘*^^'■'•5' vv-' 1 ’’■ '.'■'••'■'A.A 


r ■■ ? 


4 • 







